Of Sushi & Men...

I may not know how to pick men…but food, now that I know. So when he invited me out to dinner and insisted that I pick the location, you better believe that I singled out a local all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant that could best be described with the adjective “orgasmic’. I could hear the hesitation in his voice as I made the suggestion but didn’t think much else about it after he was quick to reassure me that he did indeed like sushi…although had only recently been introduced to this delectable, borderline-still-living, delicious, mouth-watering, array of tasty goodness!

He picked me up at a quarter past seven, so despite the fact that he was 15 minutes late and apparently running on P.S.T. (Polynesian Standard Time) I opted to remain optimistic about the date’s outcome. Mostly because he was H-O-T! I’m talking Brad Pitt circa 'Legends of the Fall', APEX Alarm Summer Salesman…hot.

Dinner went well. Ordinarily I would’ve allowed him to do all of the ordering, just so that he could feel like “The Man!” in the relationship, but in this case because Mr. Picky McEatsBlandFood didn’t have a lot of experience in ordering sushi I went ahead and took the lead by instructing our waiter which rolls I thought would be most apt to getting him hooked…no pun intended. Despite being virtually a ‘sushi virgin’ he was a fairly good sport about sampling everything our waiter brought out and the playful banter between us was fun and flirty, which was clearly an added bonus. The check came and he paid which made it palpable that this date far exceeded any other date I had been on in a long while. As we headed for the exit my date suddenly excused himself muttering something about having to use the restroom. I patiently awaited his return, schmoozing with the manager to bide my time.

He looked a little pale as we walked to his truck, but I just chalked it up to him not being from Polynesian descent.

We were almost to the movie theater when my date turned to me with an expression that I couldn’t quite articulate. Was it one of fear? Anxiety? Panic? Horror? “This isn’t going to be good!” he exclaimed. And then he let out what was best described by Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s character in the movie ‘Along Came Polly’ when he used the epic word…

Sharted; (shärt) Vulgar Slang

intr.v. shart·ed, shart·ing, sharts

To try and expel intestinal gas, although sh!+ comes out instead.

If your date craps his pants…UNDATABLE