Friday, January 12, 2007

sake it to me!

So, you meet this guy in a bar. He's pretty cute, and real friendly, and seems polite—you're playing pool with a guy friend of yours against him and his friend, and he asked if it was okay if he flirted with you—were you two together?

You give him your number on the back of your business card, and he emails you. After a few back-and-forths you regret giving him your info ever-so-slightly because he can't seem to select anything. He wants you to pick the restaurant AND the day AND the time. Which is stupid.

You're told him you like Italian, Mexican and Sushi. That's EASY.

You're about to give him the heave-ho when he sweetly calls and asks if he could please take you out for some sushi at a pretty swank place. So you agree. And give him mental points for liking sushi, too!

When the day of the date arrives you drive yourself to the sushi restaurant (you don't know him from Adam, so there's NO WAY he's picking you up, much to his chagrin—I mean, this blog isn't idiotic and single for a reason!) and apparently your date has made a big deal of this to the wait staff—because they re-seat you twice in order to "make you more comfortable." Whatever.

After a few rounds of "what rolls should we order?" your edammame arrives. He's never had it before and he's terribly not graceful in eating it. No biggie though. And a few minutes later copious amounts of sushi arrive at your table. You use the soy sauce and hand it to him. And he Pours. It. Into. His. Plate. Like, all over his plate. Completely ignoring the little dish specifically for that purpose. Furthermore, he proceeds to spill soy All. Over. The. Table. There is a soy sauce party, nay, a soy sauce lake, all over your table. Little pieces of ginger could float on it like islands on the soy lake. You could have parties on those islands. and serve little tiny pieces of sushi. And drinks with umbrellas.

...mmmm...drinks with umbrellas...and sand...and sun...and hot guys in trunks...and drinks with umbrellas...oh, yeah, people are reading this!

anyhoo. He proceeds to try to mop up the soy sauce that's spilled (mind you there's still an overflowing saucer o' soy that most people would call a plate just chilling on the table), but the napkins at this place are cloth, and they're not so absorbent. When the waiter comes by the guy puts the napkin on top of his plate much like a child would to "hide" the veggies they didn't want to eat.

All this time I'm trying not to laugh, and I'm thinking about the soy sauce, and how it pours so slowly, and wondering how in the world you manage to make an entire small lake/puddle/ocean with that tiny tiny bottle. I mean it's not like ketchup--it doesn't have a high viscosity such that one second there's nothing and then the next there's a huge glob. No, it's a liquid. It's simple...or so I thought.

thank God the guy bought a bottle of wine. because the whole rest of the date went just as swimmingly...but at least I got sushi and some giggles out of the deal?


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