So Much Sushi

Up to my eyeballs in work (in epistemology, in Farsi, in Dostoevsky analysis), and focused on the baseball playoffs, [and being fundamentally anti-social---hence the blog--ed.], I didn't go out at all this weekend. The highlight, aside from mainlining Schadenfreude off the squirming faces of Red Sox fans, and taking in the second-hand Schadenfreude of every non-NewsCorp network cluster-bombing the O'Reilly sexual harrassment case, was the sushi-eating contest I had with one of my roommates. Let be take a step back and describe this guy: he's a savant poker player and math whiz, and leads exactly the kind of lifestyle you'd expect of someone matching that description. In other words, general 4pm-4am waking hours and a diet out of Super-Size Me. I'm not quite sure what possessed me to challenge him to a contest at the sushi restaurant we went to in Hamden.

But it was I who came up with the terms of the bet: if he won, I would help him (in the most liberal sense of that term) with a German culture paper; if I won, he would foot the entire undoubtedly healthy bill. The challenge was to order various kinds of sushi rolls one after the other, split them evenly, and continue eating until someone either gave up or couldn't keep the contents of his stomach in his stomach. To sum up, after we'd bulldozed through about ten rolls, the kitchen closed for its break between lunch and dinner. We declared a draw and split the bill. The truth is, I was beginning to hit a wall. I might have been able to get through a couple more rolls, but not much beyond that. Though I can't be sure, he seemed maybe halfway full. Of course, if I'm ever asked about the contest, I can confidently say that I tied so-and-so at sushi-eating, and if pressed, I will maintain unequivocally that I had room for dozens more rolls.

After getting forced out of the sushi restaurant, he suggested that we settle the bet over Chicken McNuggets. But I had only proposed and agreed to sushi-eating; like (the sitcom character of) Jerry Seinfeld, I chose not to run. And so it shall always be. I'm retiring undefeated, and I choose not to run.