I love yummy bits of raw fishes. Nom. Nom. Nom.

If you’re anything like me, and I make the assumption that I am smack dab in the middle of the bell curve, you also enjoy frequenting sushi restaurants, taking a seat by the magical conveyor belt of mystery, and watching with marvel as exciting, aesthetically pleasing specimens of fish and rice pass you by. I love it. I would submit to you that sushi conveyor belts are probably one of the top factors that aliens would look at to categorize the level of our civilization as impressively high. Sushi conveyor belts and peanut butter m and ms. I love those too.

Anyway, when I’m covetously eying a desired dish slowly make its way toward me, and I am about to make the reach, I ABSOLUTELY CAN’T STAND IT when the person next to me grabs it right before it hits me. Unfair! Unjust! Inhumane!

It’s slightly ridiculous because even as I sit there writhing with anger on the inside, I do for a second think about the person sitting to my left and how I might be grabbing exactly what they want, but I sort of nudge the thought aside like an unwanted pile of gum wrappers and scratch paper on my desk. I can only seem to focus on the absolute calamity that is occurring every single time a yummy looking piece of sashimi or egg is being taken by the jerk to my right. What a loser.

In the end, I just had to place an order with the chef behind the belt. However, I felt it cheapened the experience.

I guess I just wrote this entry to rant a little bit. Perhaps you sympathize.

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