Thanks for visiting. I'm a recent transplant to the Boston Massachusetts area, living with my boyfriend while he completes his MBA. I'm originally from Utah, I like Apple, FileMaker, writing about my feelings, and eating edamame.
Whenever SML asks me what I want for dinner I say “Sushi!” because it’s my most favorite food besides Hot Dogs and Twinkies. Yesterday evening, SML agreed that we could go to Ichiban Sushi because either I’m very cute when I beg, or he’s expecting that I pay him back with another trip to the Laundromat by myself.
Ichiban is located downtown in an old church that reminds me of all of the religious things I’m missing out on: Vaulted ceilings and stained glass. We sat outside because we feel uncomfortable inside anything that even used to be a church.
Once seated on the patio I ordered about six different pieces nigri sushi. I felt brave doing that, because I only know one person who can eat sushi like this and now I’m not totally sure he has taste buds. I’ve only really had nigri sushi once before and if I remember correctly, I was very intoxicated and waiting for someone to carry me to the car. That sentence explains a lot about me in general because I really only try new things when I have no idea what’s going on.
Once our meal arrived, I ate the first couple of pieces without a problem until I got to the fourth piece which felt like I was eating chicken fat rolled in slime. I say felt because I don’t even want to remember the taste, because the immediate gagging reflexes I had after putting that nigiri piece in my mouth was close to the reflexes I had having food poisoning or smelling someone else’s thick and corn-filled throw-up.
I held the food in my mouth for a considerable amount of time because I couldn’t even imagine spitting out something that cost nearly $3.00. I thought very seriously of trying to stomach it anyway because spitting it out would mean total defeat when SML uses the event in the future as the number one reason never to eat sushi. Or to take me anywhere public.
When I did finally spit the contents of my mouth into a napkin I told SML, “We can go to McDonald’s after this.”
Kill Me, Now 
Subscribe to this comment's feed