bad sushi

Ok, so I didn’t really have bad sushi – it was just bad leftovers.  I  will call it a ‘meat and potato pastry’ because the real name for it is often mistaken for stripper-wear.  I figured it’d still be safe, I made it on Sunday ….  And I did nuke it, though probably not quite to germ-killing levels.

It doesn’t take much to upset this stomach of mine – I’m like the canary for bad food.  I’ll be in the bathroom … well, in the bathroom … long before anybody else is aware of any badness. 

I once went with friends to Bennigan’s, and, yup, I was in the bathroom revisiting my dinner before we even left the restaurant.  Afterwards, during games back at my apartment, everybody else was moaning and laying on the floor.  I felt great!  Nothing bad in my system anymore!  While they were all finally feeling the effects of, what we suspected was, bad grease.  None of us had eaten the same thing at dinner, but we had all had something from the fryer – Monte Cristo (which to this day, I still can’t eat …), chicken fingers, french fries.

It was really bad timing, too, because I was supposed to go to a mock service tonight for a new restaurant!  They sure coulda used this canary stomach of mine …

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