I love Japanese.
I especially love a good miso soup. I'd drink that stuff all night long.
And I love the effect wisabe has on unsuspecting victims - if you haven't had it before be ready for a small sudden explosion of pain that shoots through your mouth and nose followed by a relaxing calm. That's right. No sooner have you hit the floor clutching your throat has the pain subsided.
It's the weirdest feeling.
Everyone should try it - it sure does clear the sinuses!
Anyhow, initially I was concerned about how long the night would last as my sister and I have never really sat down and ate together before... in fact, I don't we've ever have!?
It's not like we *never* talk it's just we're not renowned for long discussions.
I think it may have been due to a previous relationship I had with a good friend of hers many moons ago. At the time they were close, but when the relationship between her friend and I soured my suster and her have never spoken since.
I vowed never to date any of my sister's friends again, and I never knew whether the break up of the relationship pissed my sister off. I kind of believed it did.
I wouldn't like it if my sister dated any of my friends and then broke up with them... the friendship would feel so awkward.
But, anyhow, back to the dinner with my sister...
The last time my sister and I even closely had a dinner together was with two other chics.
And I was fortunate enough to be the *only* man of the evening amongst them!
That's right: me and three chics - one was my sister, another was her good friend (the woman I was dating at the time) and the third was a German chic who was visiting (an old pen pal of my date's).
(BTW: What is it with German chics and their killer tans?? How can anyone living near the Black Forest possibly get a killer tan?? There's no beach. There's no way you're going to strip down to your bikini in minus 10 degree heat (if you can even call it heat!) and catch a bit of sun. And there's no tanning salon... I don't get it??)
Anyway, the dinner with the three ladies made me feel like a king... kinda like King Solomon.
Speaking of the King Solomon I don't think he was very wise, I mean he had 700 wives! Just put this into perspective for a minute folks, that means...
- He would have had 700 mother-in-laws
- Bought 1400 presents for both of these women PER YEAR
- Found FOUR PERFECT birthday presents DAILY
- Taken TWO wives out for dinner per DAY
- Celebrated TWO anniversaries per DAY
- Been "busy" nearly THREE times per day... he had an additional 300 concubines at his disposal
- Needed several thousand tanks of hot water (not to mention enough money for the water and electricity bills); and
- A bed the size of Texas!
Not only that but can you imagine 700 women nagging him to leave the toilet seat up, replace the blown light globe, mow the lawn, empty the trash, grease the pantry hinge door, reticulate the backyard, renovate the bathroom, find "quality" time... and on and on and on and on, day after day??
Kind Solomon must have been a glutton for punishment!
I think most guys would admit that ONE WIFE IS ENOUGH.
God help us if all men were required by law to have 700!!!
But where was I?
Ah yes, the dinner last Saturday...
It went much further into the night than expected and both of us opened up. We spoke about the future, whether we'd have kids (she doesn't), men, women, our folks, our previous relationships including the one I had with one of her good friends - heck we just talked about everything!
After telling her about what had happened and how I felt my sister sided with me! But the reason for the uneasy silence between us was due to the fact that I had never approached her about it, or asked how she felt, or explained what had happened to her. It was as if I didn't care about her and the friendship they once had.
Heck I thought they were still going to be friends and that the gory details of the relationship were going to be disclosed by her friend... but that was never the case!
I assumed too much.
And when you assume to much with women you're going to get your ass whooped.
I quickly asked for more wisabe - if I was going to get my ass whooped I wanted to make sure that I had a legitimate reason for why there were tears welling up in my eyes.
(Thankfully it never got to that stage.)
By the time the night was over I felt complete. Not because I had gorged myself with miso soup, or over done it on the contents of my tori karaage bento set, it was knowing that my own little sister still loved me.
The very woman that used to help dress me because of my lack of fashion sense (hey I'm colourblind) and the very woman that makes a killer apple pie... still thought I was the best eldest brother she ever had.
Ok... I'll admit I *nearly* let one rip... a tear that is!
...Damn that wisabe was strong.