Korean Sushi: Dait Bate

6/13/08

"Maybe it would just be easier if you told me what you willfully exclude from your diet." Getting to this point had not been without its challenges. These are the questions you need to ask if you want a date in this town. I'd been trying to get together with Cheryl for dinner, coffee, cocktails… whatever… since I met her at a friend's party about three and half weeks prior.

"Well, I'm a vegetarian, but only sorta kinda," was Cheryl's reply. At that party, Cheryl had been a lot of fun, very cute and not without her own special brand of charming neurosis. In short, I was very attracted to this woman. We had spent a great deal of time bantering back and forth, making eye contact and flirting within the group dynamic of the party. At some point later (many cocktails later) in the evening, we'd found ourselves alone together in the kitchen. Cheryl had said something to me along the lines of, "you just seem so cute and kissable," so I did what seemed natural in the moment, which was to move over close to her, put my hands on that nice part of the hips where the ass merges with the waist and kiss her. At first, it was just a semi-sweet kiss on the lips… no tongue, but not entirely without randy intentions.

"I said you looked kissable, not that I wanted to kiss you," was her reply after our lips parted. This led immediately led to an irresistible spark of electric chemistry between us and a full blown make out session… right there in the kitchen. Cheryl boosted herself onto the counter so she'd be a little closer to my height and we lost ourselves, alone there in the kitchen for more than a few delightful moments. Eventually, we were interrupted. It was bound to happen. The kitchen was where most of the booze was and we were at a party after all. Cheryl scooched herself off the counter and we went out to rejoin the ruckus. On the way out of the kitchen, I spied a lime wedge smashed onto the ass of Cheryl's blue jeans from our little make out moment. I laughed and swatted it off for her. Thankfully, she laughed too… and gave me her phone number before she left. Talk about your first impressions.

Since that night, we talked quite a few times on the phone and got along what I thought was pretty well. There was no shortage of laughter during our conversations and I always consider that a good sign. Still, we were unable to get our schedules together to make plans largely because of: a) the massive time commitment her job requires; b) a friend of hers having really bad timing for when she'd be in need of an intervention; and c) the amount of care and attention demanded from her by her cats. We'd tried for drinks, live music and/or happy hour on a few occasions only to have something come up at the last minute and postpone our plans. Now it was a dinner, Friday night, I was driving at.

"So, what does a sorta kinda vegetarian eat?" I asked with a bit o' apprehension. Cheryl replied that she eats eggs, because those are unfertilized (personally, I eat them because they're delicious and good for you) and sometimes fish because she just can't relate to (chew, swallow, digest) god's creatures that have four legs or feathers. What, no bacon? The horror! Then she makes everything easy for me and tells me what she's really been craving lately is sushi. Cool. I can handle that. I tell her I know a tasty place in my neighborhood for Korean sushi. Very fresh! Perfect. Plans are made.

That Friday rolls around and Cheryl is running late. She got hung up at work, but assures me she'll be by just as soon as she runs home to feed her kitties. The kitties had already been their own source of problems as far as Cheryl and I making plans had gone. One of her cats, Cosmo, had been in a sickly way for the better part of 8-10 weeks. Cheryl had had him for a number of years already, so naturally she was quite attached. She had taken him to a couple different vets already and neither of them was able to diagnose exactly why it was the cat was not eating. One of them even kept the cat at the clinic for several days and did an exploratory surgery on the animal to make sure its digestive tract wasn't obstructed. This procedure had effectively cancelled one of our planned rendezvous. Instead, I got to hear, on the phone, all the tearful details on how the cat (I'd never even met, but was told was just toooooo precious for words) was doing. The last I'd heard prior to that night was that her other cat had stopped eating too and she was afraid the problem was kitty contagious. God forbid!

Eventually, Cheryl makes it to my place and is well worth the wait. She looks absolutely fetching in her vintage yellow summer dress and heels. There's a flower in her hair and a smile on her face at the door. "Let's eat. I'm starving," she says in way of hello and we head out the door and around the corner to Ginza Sushi (Wilshire and St Andrews) for dinner. I'd been to Ginza a few times, but never on a weekend… and it is packed. Fortunately, just as we get there, a couple seats open at the end of the sushi bar, so we grab them rather than wait for a table.

Once we're seated, Cheryl launches into all the updates on her cat situation. This isn't exactly my preferred topic of conversation, but I'm attracted to this woman, so I do my best to feign some interest… y'know, throwing in little aside comments every so often like, "really?" and "oh my gosh" and then asking questions that show I'm actively listening, but still keep the story moving forward. At this point, her cats are not my favorite. I don't care how cute she thinks they are.

We order our miso, sake and sushi. Cheryl drives ahead with all the details surrounding the Cosmo situation. I'm doing my best to roll with it because, obviously, this woman has spent a lot of time and energy worrying about her animal and thinks it important I know all about it. To condense it into a cube, the animal suddenly stopped eating and started dry hacking sporadically. Cheryl got worried and took him to the vet. No problems were found, but the vet gave the cat some medicine that didn't fix anything and maybe even made it worse. This led to more concern, more vet visits, and eventually the exploratory surgery on the animal. All this led to no answers. Then, her other cat started exhibiting similar symptoms and she freaked and rushed him to the pet ER. She tells me it just breaks her heart to see any animal suffer.

Then, she reveals to me the following crucial pieces of information:

a) That since she considers herself a vegetarian, she decided her cats should be vegetarians too and had started feeding them only vegan, dry cat food a few months prior.

b) Cosmo hated the new cat food so much that he just flat refused to eat it, which was the sole cause of all the weight loss, hacking, vet visits, etc…

c) Cheryl had spent over $5000 on her cats at the vet in the time since she decided to make her animals vegetarian like her only to be told the answer for her sick kitties was just to give them plain ol' normal, moist cat food from the supermarket.

Are you getting sick of hearing all about this woman's cats yet? I know I was… and I knew that she had just revealed several pieces of information to me that there was no chance I would ever be able to get past. I don't care how hot n' sexy you are. Paying $5000 to vets when the problem is the lifestyle choice you're trying to make for your pet is just too much stupid for me to excuse.

It was about at this time, that the first of what turned out to be several orders of live lobster sashimi appeared at the sushi bar. Yes, I said LIVE. Very fresh! I wouldn't have even noticed what was going on behind the sushi bar had the order not been placed a foot from my head when ready to be picked up by the waitress. The first indication I had that something had suddenly gone very weird was the look of abject horror creeping across my date's face.

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die." – Hunter S. Thompson

"That thing is still moving," she had to look away before she could get the words out of her mouth. I looked and she was right. That thing WAS still moving… quite a bit. In fact, it looked like it was going to crawl right off the tray into my lap. Very fresh! I was shocked, but not horrified. When the waitress came and whisked the platter away to a waiting table, I noticed the still living lobster was just a garnish for a very large plate of sushi and sashimi.

Finally, I had my means to change the topic of conversation away from her gotdamn cats. Luckily (ha!), that was not the last to be seen from the still living lobsters. It wasn't more than a few minutes later that I noticed one of the sushi chefs grabbing another one from the tank. I tried to draw Cheryl's attention to the preparation of the dish, but she was too horrified and grossed out in general to look.

Basically, while the lobster is still living, the chef removes its tail and claws, sets the head aside (still living), sashimis the tail and claw, combines it with more sashimi and sushi on a platter of ice, then takes the hollowed out tail and the still living head and rejoins them atop the platter to give the illusion that the lobster (now a garnish) is still whole. Very fresh! The lobster, still living of course, now is faced with the prospect of spending its last breaths watching itself be eaten by fashionable Koreans.

Have I told you that things are never a moment away from going weird in K-town?

Cheryl, my date is not coping with the freak show sushi well. At least she's not talking about her cats anymore. Thank god. Instead, she switches to all the factors that went in to her deciding to become a vegetarian in the first place. I have a feeling live lobster sashimi has now been silently added to that list. Very fresh! Our sushi arrives and Cheryl seems to be over her hunger. Aside from the California roll and some of the kimchi appetizer, she barely touches the food. During the meal, at least three, maybe four more of the live lobster platters come out of the sushi bar, right next to my head. Each lobster is greeted by my date with a mix of horror, sorrow and pity. Apparently, this is a popular dish with large Korean dinner parties… and not with sorta kinda vegetarian white girls.

After dinner, which I enjoyed and Cheryl barely touched, we walked back towards my place. Cheryl announced that she has to leave early, so I walked her to her car and got a very limp handshake that half turned into an awkward sort of hug. I knew I would not be hearing from this woman again. For that I am eternally grateful to the lobsters that bravely gave up their deliciousness and then their lives. Very fresh!