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Dishing on Fish

Lord, help me. Not only am I overwhelmed by inactivity, I am also currently on a mission to try every restaurant I haven’t visited yet on the Vineyard. This is hard to accommodate without a steady job. But I’m no pushover. I’ll keep on eating.
The husband and I went out for sushi the other day. First of all, I can’t believe he finally tried it and second of all, he loved it. In fact, he preferred the plate of sashimi. The wonder of it all.
         This was at the Lookout Tavern, which of course looks out over the pier in Oak Bluffs. Seeing how the place was packed and there was a wait for the cool tables, we opted to sit at the sushi bar and watch the knives fly over all that raw fish.
         It was pretty awesome.
         It was even better when accompanied by rum punch and the “happiness is…” margarita.
         While we were dining, my better half, as he has been known to do, decided to engage in conversation with any and all of the sushi chefs who could speak English.
         I found out that all of the sushi fish that they use comes from . . . you guessed it . . . New York City, just like the salsa in that inane commercial.
         This was hard to take for a girl who prides herself on eating scallops that come fresh from the next town over. Apparently New York is even the go-to for seafood.
         Anyway, this was a sort of date because my son Dan is off to summer camp. That means two weeks of solid “woo-hoos” interspersed with “What the hell? Danny’s gone. What are we going to do?”
         I’m always conflicted at camp time. On one hand I want to fly to Vegas and see male strippers or at least the Cirque du Soleil. On the other hand I want to stay home and snuggle up with my husband in the air conditioning while watching ridiculous Netflix movies. What’s a girl to do?
         This time it’s been pretty darn sweet. We’ve managed to spend some great time together doing absolutely nothing, with a little sushi on the side.
         I haven’t yet gone to my go-to activities: Nairing my legs and painting my toenails. But they’re on my list.
         A camp vacation wouldn’t be complete without a couple of issues of People magazine, a brownie sundae from DQ, and a big bag of plantain chips.
         This all leaves me wondering what Dan’s doing during his break from me. I wonder if he’s just having a really chill time without me climbing up his ass. Probably. Who wouldn’t?
         I should go now. I want to grab my husband from his workshop so he can warm up the couch, and Netflix has decided to work tonight.

        Like the seafood, you can’t count on the Internet connections here. Better grab the good times while you can I always say. 


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