The List

There’s a sushi bar not far from here that I used to run or drive to almost every day a couple of years ago. Not a great place, but a good place. This was before I got an espresso machine so most often, I just went there to get my daily latte.

This is the official shit list

Then I got my espresso machine, and the visits to the sushi bar got less frequent, but I was still what I would call a “regular.” Insomuch that I could park my car outside, and they’d start stuffing “today’s special” in one of them white plastic bags for me.

One day, out of the necessity of having run out of diet Coke (read: Pepsi Max) at home, I decided to get a can at the sushi bar. So, I parked my car, and sure enough, when I walk in, they’re almost done with my order. I took a step deeper in, reached into their fridge and pulled out a can of diet Coke. Then I took another step back, to the cash register to pay.

I gave the smiling Japanese lady a hundred money. One bill, 100 units. Sushi costs 60, the Coke 10, 70 in total.

She gave me 15 back.

I looked at the coins puzzled, and told her that I thought there had been a mistake, that I had given her a hundred money bill. She said “no.” I said, “yes.” We were both smiling.

“I just gave you a hundred money bill, I know it for a fact, because that’s all I had after my visit to the ATM,” I said, showing her two other hundred money bills in my hand – as if having two more would prove to her that I had had three of them just 30 seconds ago.

She turned around and started to work on another order. I stood there, smiling, waiting for my white plastic bag which appeared right then, but somebody else’s hand was still holding onto it. The smiling Japanese lady was now just a Japanese lady.

“Now I get it, you didn’t give me any money at all,” she announced.

“Wait, wait. Sure I did, come on,” I said.

“I would know if you gave me any money, and now I know, you didn’t,” she said.

Now none of us was smiling. One of us was gritting teeth, and biting his lip. That was me.

“You know what? Let’s call the whole thing off, give me back the hundred I gave you. I don’t want your stinking sushi anymore,” I said.

Counter to what you might have expected after her latest accusation, she did slam a bill to the counter, at the same time as I slammed the can of Coke there. I took the bill, turned around and walked out the door.

Halfway to my car, I turned around, and walked back in to make an announcement to all eight people inside:

“Just so you know, this was the last time I ever came to this place.” My arm was waving and my finger pointing everywhere.

Just as the door slammed behind me, I heard a voice saying, “fine!”

Last week, my wife gave me a pack of “Shit list” forms as a present. The sushi bar was the second entry. The first one is already off the list. She was just a trial run, and no, she wasn’t my wife.

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