Its Fun to Say WASABI!!!! Try it…..

I have landed a job at a Sushi bar. I have never served sushi. I do not eat sushi. Remember my pallet is a perfect match to a midwestern three year old? Remember the part where I said that most seafood smells like a dolphin’s ass? Right. So I’m serving sushi…..

I may LOOK like candy…….But I am really the raw uncooked insides of a dead fish.. NOW EAT ME!!!

Its ok. I have served any number of things that I wouldn’t eat. Far from the first time. Sushi doesn’t really bother me. Because it doesn’t smell. If it smells bad you need to take a long walk.  Truthfully it is on the list of things I would like to love…..but as over cooked vegetables or anything drowning in cream sauce are on my gag list, I cannot imagine a day when ingesting salmon roe or sea urchin is imminent.

That would be Ikura and Uni respectively… Homework done.

Cooked Japanese food can be truly disgusting, and I do not mean Teriyaki Chicken. Today I served this…..

tentacle soup

I wanted to grab the woman who ordered this and shake her.

“Do NOT eat that! That bowl of soup is going to grab you by the face and drag you into some Japanese hentai hell where you will be sexually corrupted and then consumed by a  horny maritime cephalopod!

I know you think I’m sick, right? Just google tentacles all by its innocent self and see what you get. I dare you. You will not even have to elaborate.

Seriously there was a tentacle sticking out of that bowl that would leave a scar left to its own devices.

As always its the smell of this stuff that really gets to me. Over the years I have learned to stay artfully upwind of things that assault my olfactory senses.

But on to other things.

My trainer is the last real bartender. Because “No one really tends bar anymore!” He is an 80s relic sporting a Long greasy Sammy Hagar drug dealer ponytail.

Kill me now. Please?

He is one of those people who has seen Cocktail with Tom Cruise too many times and believes that bartending is a dying art like tribal tattoos or chainsaw juggling. He used to own a club downtown. I know all about it because he assaults every one of his customers with this information.  I never did that kind of bartending and I think I would rather eat one of my own arms. The thought of babysitting a bunch of 21.5 year olds who are either shagging or throwing up on one another until 3 a.m does not appeal to me at all. People always think that bartending is somehow glamorous. I don’t get that. It is true that a good looking male bartender gets a lot of tail, and there is also Hot Bartender Syndrome where in any female who isn’t a complete troll is somehow made sexier because she is smiling at you and bringing you stuff whenever you ask. Who doesn’t get a little bit hot for that? But in general working the bar is as much or more drudgery as any other service job.

An awesome bartender job where scores of only beautiful people show up to a three story club just to watch you flip bottles and make cute martinis. There are no dishes, no obnoxious drunks and you don’t have man hands because you don’t have to wipe off the bar or cut limes or hall ice. My inner attention whore is salivating. Where do I apply?

The owner of the sushi restaurant is a scary little Chinese man I will call Mr. Wang. He speaks little English and just walks around the restaurant scowling at everyone all night.

Seriously he will sit in the corner of the bar like a gargoyle and just stare at you for an hour.

I am scared to death of him. I picture him like this:

05_Flatbed_1 OCTOBER
“Easy Mr. Bigglesworth. You will have your treat soon my pet”


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