Chapter 5: Sushi Hut
Return to Chapter 4: Lock-Out
As Corinne enters Sushi Hut, she immediately spies Dontae hunkered down in a booth near the back. He's staring intently at the menu - an activity that strikes her as odd, since he should have the entire thing memorized by now. They typically eat here at least twice a week.
She has no idea why they eat here twice a week. Dontae regularly complains about the quality of the food, the general surliness of the wait staff, the routinely escalating prices, and the musky odor that assaults the nasal passages of all who dare to enter. The lighting is dim. Not because of any hackneyed attempt to romanticize the atmosphere, but because nearly a third of all the overhead fluorescents are dead-or-flickering. A sign behind the sushi chefs proclaims:
This establishment has been free of food-borne illnesses for 6 days.
She doesn't necessarily share Dontae's misgivings about the restaurant. She has an iron stomach and she's fond of saying that what doesn't kill her only makes her scarier to those around her. But she always braces herself when she's confronted anew by Sushi Hut's clientele.
The place is always packed. Most of the customers look like they're on lunch break from their jobs as city sewer inspectors. They take great joy in loudly mispronouncing nearly every item on the menu. This is the only sushi restaurant she's ever been in where ketchup is stocked on every table. Right next to the soy sauce and the cheap wooden chopsticks. Proudly. Like it belongs there. And the ketchup needs to be refilled far more often than the chopsticks.
She slides into the booth without announcing her presence. Dontae shoots her a surprisingly-nasty glance before returning his gaze to the menu. She doesn't know exactly how to process his caustic expression.
[Corinne]: Ya gonna keep eyeballing the menu? Or should I just go ahead and tell you what yer gonna order?
He doesn't look up to reply. His tone is snarky.
[Dontae]: Maybe something unexpected's gonna happen today?
[Corinne]: Unexpected? Like... fresh food, well prepared? Or courteous service? Or-
[Dontae]: You know what I'm talkin about.
[Corinne]: This about the shit that went down at the office?
[Dontae]: What exactly do you know about that shit?
[Corinne]: I know you packed up yer stuff and stormed out. Wait... Did you actually... quit?
He finally snaps his gaze upon her. But his expression is more befuddlement than anger.
[Dontae]: No! I didn't quit! Why in the hell would I quit? I was-
[Waitress]: You two gonna order or what?
The interjection catches both of them by surprise. The wait staff doesn't really serve the guests. Rather, they tend to mull about the dining room like a collection of slow-motion bumper cars. Occasionally they find themselves randomly standing in front of one of their tables. Usually, they just jostle amongst the unkempt patrons, stopping frequently to gossip with each other. Ordering typically requires flagging one of them down. It takes both of them a moment before they can muster a response.
The waitress is of an indeterminate age somewhere between 18 and 35. She looks too haggard to be a teenager. But her hairstyle and clothing betray a certain immaturity that's rare in grown-ass folks. She's gnashing on a wad of gum as though she's desperately trying to break it down into smaller bite-size chunks. Like all the other wait staff, she has a name tag. Dontae has absolutely no idea what it says, because it's written in kanji. Which has always struck him as odd because none of the employees seems remotely Asian in any way. And the customers sure-as-hell can't read Japanese.
[Dontae]: You've got new menus.
The waitress has no reply. In fact, she doesn't acknowledge his statement in any way. She just... stares at him. Eons pass before he finally realizes that he'll need to speak again.
[Dontae]: I don't see the Wang-Bang roll on here. Can I still get the Wang-Bang roll?
[Waitress]: Is it on the menu?
[Dontae]: But... I just said that I don't see it on here anymore.
[Waitress]: Well then I guess ya can't get the Wang-Bang roll, now can ya?
[Dontae]: No... I guess I can't.
He sounds like a child who's just been informed that Santa Claus is a load of bunk and he won't be getting any Christmas presents. Not this year. Nor ever again.
[Dontae]: I just can't believe they got rid of the Wang-Bang roll. Used to love that.
[Waitress]: The manager said it hardly got ordered anyway.
[Dontae]: Really??
[Waitress]: Yeah. I guess there's some dumpy twerp who orders it a few times a week. Other than that... no one.
[Dontae]: Oh... I see. But I know you guys still got all the ingredients.
[Waitress]: Well that's a good point. I hadn't thought of that.
[Dontae]: Oh, cool! So I can get it?
[Waitress]: Sure. In fact, why don'tcha just step behind the sushi bar and make all yer own damn rolls? Hell, whip me up something while yer back there.
His momentary joy melts faster than an August snowflake.
[Dontae]: I wasn't trying to be difficult. I was just thinking-
[Waitress]: You want some mizudako?
[Dontae]: Huh? I'm sorry. What'd you say?
[Waitress]: Mizz-eww-dahk-oh. You want summa that?
[Dontae]: I dunno. What is mizudako? I've never heard of it.
[Waitress]: It's Hokkaido octopus. Very rare. Tasty as fuck.
[Dontae]: Oh, well... that sounds lovely. Yeah. I'd like to try that. I didn't see anything like that on the new menu.
[Waitress]: It's not on the menu.
[Dontae]: But you just said-
[Waitress]: Well I just figured as long as yer orderin a buncha stupid shit that ain't even on the menu, you might as well shoot for the stars! Hell, maybe you could order a plate of emperor penguin while yer at it?!
[Dontae]: Nevermind.
[Waitress]: How bout mermaid? You want some mermaid?
[Dontae]: OK, OK. Can we just... move on?
[Corinne]: What're the specials today?
He's immensely relieved that Corinne finally decided to wade into this catastrophe. A few more minutes of this torture and he's afraid that he'd start crying.
[Waitress]: Specials? Hmm... lessee.
She opens her black waiter wallet and begins rummaging through some unseen bits of paper therein. She's genuinely flummoxed.
[Waitress]: Lessee... Lessee... Oh! Here they are. We got monkfish today.
[Corinne]: Hmm... Never had monkfish. You recommend it?
[Waitress]: Nah. Tastes like shit.
[Corinne]: Alllll...righty then.
[Waitress]: It'll clean ya right out, though. The one time I tried it, I was blowin gravy for three whole days.
[Corinne]: I think I'll pass.
[Waitress]: Suit yerself. The other special is... [checks notes again] two-fer-one mystery rolls.
[Corinne]: Mystery roll?
[Dontae]: What's on a "mystery roll"?
[Waitress]: If they told ya that, it wouldn't be a mystery, now would it?
He's annoyed by the fact that he can't fault her logic.
[Dontae]: You have a point.
[Corinne]: We'll each have two mystery rolls and a coke.
She's never been in the habit of ordering for the both of them. But he can't bring himself to muster a rebuttal. Anything that gets the scary waitress lady away from their table is a positive development in his book.
The waitress starts writing inside her black wallet. Her motions are exceedingly slow. She concentrates on each letter with furious intent.
[Waitress]: Forrrrrrrr... misssss-terrrrr-eee rolls. And toooooooooo coffeeeeeees.
[Dontae]: No, no. Those were cokes. Not coffees.
She squints and examines her notes with furious intent.
[Waitress]: Nope! I wrote it down. Says right here: Two coffees.
[Dontae]: But we didn't ask for coffees. We asked for cokes.
She looks up from her wallet and bathes both of them in an angry scowl. She then makes a show of rapidly scribbling over her words before continuing.
[Waitress]: Toooooo... cohhhhhhkes.
[Corinne]: Thank you.
As she turns and begins to leave the table, Dontae pipes up, causing her to stop in her tracks once she's several steps away.
[Dontae]: Could you also please bring some extra ginger? On the side?
She emits a scornful chuckle before she replies and resumes walking away.
[Waitress]: Yeah, sugar. Whatever.
They both take a few moments to compose themselves before either dares to resume the conversation.
[Dontae]: That was... brutal.
[Corinne]: I dunno. I thought she was a lot friendlier than that snotty kid who served us last week.
[Dontae]: Yeah... I guess you're right.
The next several minutes pass in awkward silence. Dontae commences his frenetic ritual of scraping his wooden shopsticks against each other. Corinne always finds this process to be nerve-racking. But he swears that he got a sliver in his gums when he was a kid and now he won't put a chopstick in his mouth without having carefully honed them for an extensive period of time.
She notices a growing line of antsy patrons queued up in front of the bathroom door near the back of the restaurant. They all seem to be in various states of distress, dancing and hopping like pre-schoolers. She assumes that this can't be a good sign, but she decides to keep this bit of intel to herself, since Dontae's facing the front door and he's blissfully unaware of the awkward ballet transpiring behind him. Besides, she reasons that the dancers all decided to try the monkfish and they wisely decided to avoid the monkfish.
[Corinne]: So... do I need to start draggin shit outta ya?
Her words break the Chopstick Spell and he looks up in sincere confusion.
[Dontae]: Hmm??
A lesser soul would be agitated by his ability to drop subjects with no follow through. But she patiently fixes her gaze on him, speaking slowly and clearly.
The anger he displayed when she first arrived has now completely disappeared. If anything, he seems mildly annoyed to be drawn away from his chopstick grooming. But he answers in a wholly nonchalant tone.
[Dontae]: Oh, yeah... that. Well... I was promoted.
[Corinne]: Get. Out.
[Dontae]: Hell no. He barely knew I'd been promoted.
[Corinne]: But that's terrific! What're ya gonna be doin?
[Dontae]: Apparently I'm the new manager of the Special Projects team.
[Corinne]: Oh... I see.
She suddenly looks uncomfortable. Which is incredibly rare, because Dontae rarely sees her uncomfortable. In any situation.
[Dontae]: Yeah... Oh. And that seems rather strange, dudn't it? Cuz I never applied for that role.
[Corinne]: Yeah... strange indeed.
[Dontae]: Quite a coincidence, don't ya think? I mean, just a few weeks ago, you were talkin to me about that exact same role. And now... Presto! Somehow, I'm the new manager! Even though I never even applied for it.
[Corinne]: OK, fine! Ya got me. I possibly... may have... submitted an application, umm... for you.
[Dontae]: But why would you do that?!
[Corinne]: Cuz I knew you were never gonna do it on your own.
[Dontae]: Don't ya think that should be my choice?
[Corinne]: Well, yeah. In theory.
[Dontae]: In theory?!
[Corinne]: Look, bro. Ya know I love you. And you're hella smart. But sometimes you've got some, let's call'em... ambition issues.
[Dontae]: So yer just gonna make these decisions for me? Without even talking to me about it first?
[Corinne]: I did talk to you about it. Few weeks ago. In the cafeteria.
[Dontae]: You only talked to me about applying.
[Corinne]: Right. And you agreed that you'd apply.
[Dontae]: And???
[Corinne]: And I knew you wouldn't follow through on it - even though you agreed you would.
[Dontae]: So what's next? Are ya gonna start asking women out on my behalf?
[Corinne]: Who ya got in mind?
[Dontae]: No one! But that's not the point.
[Corinne]: OK, OK. I hear ya. But I figured we'd talk about it if-and-when they asked you to interview. Why didn't you tell me about this when you were interviewing?
[Dontae]: There was no interview.
[Corinne]: Umm... What??
[Dontae]: No notice. No messages. No interviews.
[Corinne]: So how'd you get the job?
[Corinne]: How... odd.
[Dontae]: Yeah. No shit. I didn't even know I was being considered. I don't know what it pays. Hell, I don't even know what "Special Projects" does.
[Corinne]: Neither do I.
[Dontae]: But now I'm... the goddamn manager!
She lapses into silence for a few moments. She's clearly churning through scenarios in her head. But he's oblivious to her inner-workings.
[Corinne]: So, I guess I'm... sorry??
Half-hearted though it may be, her apology nevertheless dissolves his tension.
[Dontae]: That's fine. It's... alright. I guess.
[Corinne]: But this is a good thing. Right?
[Dontae]: I suppose so.
[Corinne]: I mean... it is a promotion afterall.
[Dontae]: Sure. I guess. But I got no clue what I'm even supposed to be doing.
[Corinne]: Oh gimme a break. You'll figure it out.
[Dontae]: I guess so.
[Corinne]: And once you've got it all figured out, you can thank me.
A flash of anger courses over his face. But it melts as soon as he sees the impish grin on hers.
The non sequitur catches her completely off guard.
[Dontae]: Almost certainly not.
[Corinne]: What's he look like?
[Dontae]: No clue. Only spoke to him the first time today. On Holla. Ain't like I've met him in person.
[Dontae]: I, well... I guess I don't know. But what's that matter??
[Corinne]: You're the one droppin strange names on me. I'm just trying to figure out who this person might be. But why are you asking?
[Dontae]: Well, this morning he-
[Corinne]: Or she.
[Dontae]: Whatever!
[Corinne]: Whoa. Sorry. Go on.
[Dontae]: So... he, or she, or it hits me up on Holla and starts tellin me that I'm sitting in the wrong place.
[Corinne]: Like, at the wrong desk?
[Dontae]: That's what I thought at first too. But they seemed to be implying that I shouldn't be in Plebe Hall at all. Like... they knew I'd been promoted.
[Dontae]: Your guess is as good as mine.
Two plates crash down on the table, followed by two cups of steaming-hot greyish "coffee". Each plate contains two similarly-greyish sushi rolls.
[Waitress]: Wang-Bang! There's yer rolls!
[Dontae]: But these aren't... Wang Bang rolls.
[Waitress]: Obviously. We don't serve Wang Bang rolls anymore.
[Dontae]: Then why did you say-
[Waitress]: I just thought it'd be fun to fuck witcha.
[Dontae]: Oh... That's hilarious.
He has many opinions about the waitress and the food that's been delivered. Hilarious definitely is not one of them.
[Waitress]: For chrissake. Lighten up, will ya?
[Corinne]: But what are these, exactly?
[Waitress]: Why, they're mystery rolls, of course!
[Corinne]: Yes, I get that. But what fish is on the mystery rolls today?
A dark cloud overtakes the waitress's face. Her face crinkles up and she earnestly squints at the rolls on both plates.
[Waitress]: Looks a lot like monkfish.
She leans over and starts sniffing the rolls. At one point, her nose is mere millimeters from Dontae's entree. Before he can object, she catches a whiff and recoils in abject horror, waving her hand in front of her face as she returns to her standing position.
[Waitress]: Whew!!! Oh yeah. That's definitely monkfish.
[Dontae]: But... we didn't order the monkfish. We ordered the mystery rolls.
[Waitress]: I'm aware of that, ya idjit. Today's mystery roll is... monkfish. Ta-da!!
He considers all the possible avenues for rebuttal. But before any thought can escape his lips, she's gone. He looks at Corinne with the saddest puppy dog face he can muster. She just shrugs and starts pouring soy sauce into her little dish. He surveys the room and notices that a surpising number of patrons are also gnoshing on identical rolls.
[Dontae]: Can you pass me the ketchup?
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