Do you know how long it takes a woman to get over the goodbye of her giant friends?
Approximately 12 hours, if you’re this one. Because it was about that time we made the two hour drive to Big City, South Dakota and spent the day shopping and eating.
And despite new money in our pockets, my heart is a faithful bargain hunter, and bargain hunted, I did.
I found a cute new pair of on-the-farm shoes, which gives the remaining cows and heifers the impression that, hey, that girl that keeps waving and talking to us is weird, but she is also stylish and presumably athletic. Boy are we lucky to have landed ourselves this farm.
Now, you may be thinking, your title says one thing, but your new pink shoes and outspoken affection for bargain hunting suggest otherwise.
Well, I would argue you and say that overtime, constant shopping access may do that, especially if I started betting to keep my habit.
However, that’s not what I meant by the title. I was referring to…
… the sushi restaurant.
You see, my fellow country girl/walking partner regaled me of her wonderful experiences at this particular sushi restaurant.
I mean, we both live in the country and share similar tastes… how could one go wrong?
Having never tried sushi myself, I had set my mind to it.
Then, in a bright sign of destiny, I saw said restaurant next to the RCC store Country Man had to stop into to buy himself new work jeans and a belt.
Let’s eat here!
Hm, no. Sushi does not sound good at all. And it’s 11.
We arm-wrestled in the parking lot to see who decided, and the sushi place it was.
Now, looking back, I think we were doomed from the start.
It wasn’t the lack of utensils on the table, either.
It began with the highly cranky server who would not describe the food.
But I will simply tell you in video form.
I ate my first piece of sushi and said:
But “a lot” was a stretch because it was only mildly tasty and ever more texture-disturbing.
It was pride that interfered my honest reaction to the food. But pride would be shamed next.
And when one of the by-standing waiters gestured for me to eat the wasabi on my plate, a food I had no idea about but obediently shoved the whole thing into my mouth, the scene turned to this:
He told me a chopstick full too late that it was to be applied lightly to the top of my sushi, for taste, and to kill any leftover bacteria.
Yep. My husband watched in horror.
Between the shopping, the food, and the traffic, I learned country life is the safest place for me.
And getting your way is for the birds.