The Manifesto: Part 5

As you can probably tell from my recent posts, I have been eating a lot of sushi lately. One of my favorite intricacies about dining at a Japanese restaurant is eating at the sushi bar. I like to see what the chefs are making, ask them what is fresh, and work my way from there. My word in the Japanese language may be "omakase" - which roughly translates to "it's up to you" (or "feed me"). However, there are a few reasons why I absolutely hate eating at the sushi bar. Here are the cardinal sins of sushi bar etiquette.

It's close to 9:00 pm on a Wednesday night. The Folk Singer and I walk into Little Tokyo on N. Carrolton. Because we arrive so near to closing time, we decide to eat at the sushi bar. There are 11 seats at the bar - 6 on the left, a support column in between, and 5 on the right. On the left-hand side, there are 2 younger guys who have chosen to sit in the middle 2 seats (so that there are 2 empty seats on either side of them). On the right-hand side, an older woman has decided to plop herself right smack in the middle seat, so that she too has 2 empty seats on either side. Seriously, people. Why not sit closer to the end so as to leave some space? And I know that the 2 guys had just been seated (because they had not yet ordered), so an excuse of "there was nowhere else to sit" is not available.

So we decide to sit next to the guys (for a reason which will be discussed later). Do they decide to slide over? Nope. So there we sit. All 4 of us. On top of each other. We might as well have been dipping our fish in the same soy sauce. If you can give your neighbor some space at the sushi bar, by all means do. It's not like you are moving tables, thus taking tips away from a server. But if you do change seats, try to leave two empty seats if you can. There is nothing more frustrating than looking for two seats at the sushi bar and seeing only multiple singles.

Why did we choose to sit next to the 2 guys? Because the woman sitting alone was loudly chatting on her cell phone (and continued to do so during our entire meal). I don't want to hear about your sister's new boyfriend while I am eating my seaweed salad. Eavesdropping at the sushi bar is inevitable, but let's still try to use our "inside voices." And along those same lines, please don't discuss your failing marriage or your financial hardship at the sushi bar. I have an idea: wait for a table.