Sushi is a great place for a date. I can't tell you the number of dates that I have been on at a sushi spot. Usually the second date, although I don't know why. Here in New York, there is a sushi restaurant on every corner, and most of them are pretty damn good. This weekend, I ventured more towards midtown, entering into an Asian oasis on 49th Street with my cousin, for a quiet evening with some raw fish.
After walking into the zen like space, I quickly noticed there was a particular seating scheme. Families filled the front, mostly booths, with small children and many bowls of edamame and tempura. In the middle, were dozens of tables for two, with what looked like second dates all around. In the back, were the single people. Tables of women, two by two, capped on the end by two tables of three men. I was instantly intrigued.
One set of three men looked like the Jewish version of the Jonas Brothers, a little more gel for the Jew 'fro, lots of chest hair, and a love for the Jappy Jersey girls sitting next to them. How did I know they were from Jersey, well, my cousin and I were lucky enough to hear the whole conversation. Jersey and Long Island were both represented, and a conversation about Jew camp was included as well. I felt pangs of jealousy over my spicy tuna roll and special number 5 roll that I wasn't the one getting hit on. Maybe it was just a twinge of indigestion.
As I pondered this, three men sat down next to us, two with wedding bands, and one who was loud, sweaty, overweight and balding - and of course single. Thanks sushi people! Although I can appreciate your relationship feng shui, and actually can respect it, felt a little insulting with what you provided on our side. At least the sushi was good!
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