It’s never a boring night when my friend D and I venture out without her rocker husband. In fact it’s normal for us to have slightly odd nights that become the stories we tell at other peoples cocktail parties.
We had one of these nights last week at our local Japanese Steakhouse (one of our favorite dinner as theater gigs). Everything’s business as usual, hour or wine and conversation in the bar and then we wander over to the table for dinner, another glass of wine and a little sushi to start.
And then he showed up—on the surface he looked just like the other chefs in the house—but when he opened his mouth…WoooWoo! No, seriously this guy shows up and does the WooWoo thing all the way to the table followed by “Ayyy Mommie, you want meat RARE?” and “Ooohhhh Mommie you want a taste, open you mouth wide Mommieeee” followed by shots of Sake being squirted from a squeeze bottle into the open mouths of our table companions.
Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot?!?!?!
Now, I’m all for social drinking and meeting new people, but looking like the baby bird to this guys alcoholic momma bird is a bit much, even for me. As this guy works his was around the table both D and I are trying to figure out how to avoid being included. You know that pressure you feel when you know something embarrassing is coming and you can’t escape it? We look at each other over our glasses of Copola Claret and know there is no hope for escape.
Everyone like a shot Mommieeeee!
So, here he comes around that famous U-shaped table toward us…and we are goaded into the shot by the other members of our party and our new friend the Chef with a “WooWoo” and an “open wide Mommie, you know you like to…”
WoooWoooo!
Imagine if you would a little Asian guy learning English from the Latin MTV channel. Now add to that Sake, fire, knives and you have our night.
Ayyy Mommie you know you want it, open wide!
This proceeds through dinner and escalates as our dinner companions wind our chef up even more. At one point there was so much food being thrown around I was bobbing and weaving like a prize fighter. I personally caught a piece of zucchini in my cleavage and I thought it couldn’t get a any more interesting than that. I was wrong. This guy is so into shooting his hot sake into everyone mouths that he wont leave until we all have another one…except our timid and wonderful D…who he shot three times before parting.
Yeaaaa Mommie you like take one for road!
By the time we left our clothes were stained with soy and damp from the dribbles of sake down our chins and we smelled like Japanese whores.
