Todai For

April 27, 2007 at 10:08 pm (Sweet sticky things)

Sorry, ladies, for the pun. You know who you are.

I went to lunch today with my friend, Mizelle, and her husband Zeb. She works for an airline, and he is a French vintner. Between trips to Thailand, Puerto Rico, Vegas, etc… they hang out in our area, and we meet up frequently for buffet.

Today, it was Todai.

Todai is an all-you-can-eat sushi and seafood buffet. It’s free on your birthday, if you bring a friend. No birthdays today, but a celebration nonetheless. I hadn’t seen them in a month or so, and before that, it had been several months.

Our last meet-up was during a ‘Lost Weekend’ situation. I was drinking heavily, and they showed up with two pizzas and a jug of burgundy. We watched Team America: World Police, (fuck yeah!) and then they walked home, fifty blocks in a rainstorm. (Apparently Zeb’s passport got soaked, and looks like a bowl of Lucky Charms left to soak in milk overnight.)

Lunch was a blast. The greeter found no humor is Zeb’s announcement that 55 more people would be joining us later. She put us in a corner, near another large group, just in case.

Todai will sing for you on your birthday. This happened to Mizelle, four or five years ago. The server was an acquaintance of mine, and he went all out, Frank Sinatra style. This time, it was a petite Asian gal. She shook a tambourine, and as we braced for Happy Birthday, server-girl announced, “This is (forgot -her-name), and she’s moving on to greener pastures.”

I looked at Mizelle, and my version of Frank Zappa’s ‘Truck Driver Divorce’ was drowned out by karaoke queen Mizelle, who burst out in her best Tammy Wynette-

“My D-I-V-Oh-awrrr-Ceee-Eeeee… becomes final to-daaay!”

She, in turn, was drowned out by the group singing ‘For She’s A Jolly-good Fellow’. I looked at Mizelle. “Gee, we’re not cynical. Sounds like she’s changing jobs…” Blushing, we went to the other side of the room, and built large plates of sushi, salmon, and just enough sprigs of broccoli to, ahem, keep things moving.

Always delightful company, we had a wonderful time. Tentative dates to barbecue, and catch a big-screen showing of Hot Fuzz, were made. At the train stop, after many big hugs, we bid adieu.

After, I took a bus ride into the NE sector of town. I had a half-off coupon for a pair of shoes, which expires tomorrow. Score! I got a pair of soft-leather walking shoes, similar to the Xmas present I’ve been wearing since October. Yes, you read that right. My GF, sick of me bitching about wet socks, the smell of shoe-glue, and the sudden shitty quality of a local/global monolith of athletic shoes, bought me a pair of snazzy New Balance walking shoes. They are in great shape, and just now feeling broke in. I will wear cheap clothing, but the shoes have to be comfortable. GF got the size right, and from the first wear, it was bliss.

So, for $35 off a new pair, for when the current pair are ready to be put to sleep, seemed like a wise idea. They are soft, inside and out. And I probably won’t need them for quite a while, given the condition of my current pair.

Unless, of course, I have to dress up. Which could happen. I do have a date Saturday night…

Jeez, I’m drooling over shoes like Imelda Marcos.

But they do look mahvelous, dahling…

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