I don’t eat sushi, but I love Sushi Rock and let me tell you why.
Before heading to Spielberg’s surprisingly not boring Munich, Chris and I hit Sushi Rock on Polk Street, where I was promised there would be chicken. After dinner, as we sat around eating gratis ice cream out of Styrofoam containers, I noticed that on one of the dozens of flat screens throughout the restaurant, there was a photo of an uncomfortable looking elderly inter-racial couple sitting at a Sushi Rock table.
“You know, that picture hasn’t changed the entire time we’ve been here.”
“The one on the flat screen right behind you. It’s been driving me nuts.”
“It’s just been them the whole time?”
“Yeah. I wonder who they are.”
“That’s weird. Wait. There’s another one over there.”
Lo and behold, the same couple graced a flat screen behind me.
“I have to know who they are.”
“Why wouldn’t it be a montage of people photos? Maybe it’s the owner.”
“Beats me. I’m going to ask.”
I flagged down our Lilliputian Japanese waitress and inquired. “Excuse me. Who are these people gracing the flat screens surrounding us?”
“Oh, they just people who eat."
"You mean, they're just diners here?"
"Yeah. You want me take picture?”
We both practically leapt out of our bamboo seats. “YES!”
She shuffled off behind the bar somewhere as we rapidly fixed our hair and stifled laughter. A mohawked Harajuku boy returned with a digital camera.
“You take, yes?”
“Oh yeah. We totally want to be on the flat screens.”
He took our picture, seemed disappointed with the results and shoved the camera at us. “You look.”
So delighted to even be considered for the illustrious Sushi Rock flat screen, I didn’t push my luck by requesting a re-shoot. Sushi Rock’s brilliant marketing ploy will surely pay off, as I plan on enjoying chicken teriyaki at least once a week until I am able to experience what I can only assume is the indescribably pleasure of gracing the many flat screens in this mecca of Japanese cuisine…