Last week, my sister invited me to go to dinner with her and a couple of our friends. We went to Tagashi, which is a sushi restaurant, apparently a very popular, busy one.
I'd never eaten sushi before.
I really have never had any desire to eat raw fish. Ever.
But I wanted to be supportive, so I went. I even ordered some raw fish. And then, after trying it, I swiftly ordered the teriyaki chicken. Which I enjoyed very much, by the way (the chicken, not the fish).
Well, that's not the whole point of this post, so let me get to that.
When we finished with dinner, I scooted over on the bench to leave and immediately landed on the floor, my head smashing into the occupied chair next to me and my wrist whacking the table in front of me. (Remember, this is a very crowded restaurant.) Everyone around me exclaimed, "Are you okay?" People on the other end of the restaurant looked down to see the crazy lady on the floor.
I just sat there, covering my face in humiliation—and laughing.
I gratefully left with my head bowed as a goose egg formed on the side of it.
How fabulous that I was able to be the entertainment for the evening.
Yeah, I'm cool.
