Friday Night is Sushi Night at my House

A new Study has revealed a rise in tapeworms in humans from eating sushi.
Gross...

Helminths are not your friend, in any form. (giving myself the heebie jeebies)

"No, your eyes are not playing tricks on you. That really is a little worm squirming all over your sashimi. This is not some ghetto sushi joint, so WTF? It happens. Each year around 2,000 Japanese fall ill from worms found in raw fish -- (nigiri and sashimi rather than the mayo playground that's called sushi). No, no, not tape worms...but tiny little worms about half an inch long known as Anisakis simplex."

Years ago one of my first jobs was at a place called Pier 98 in Destin, Fl. I wasn't real picky at what I had to do for a first job. I had arrived at this place at 15 after a too long stint of babysitting and after sleepwalking, while babysitting triplets, I thought it would be in my best interest, and the families I worked for, if I found a new calling. Many of my friends worked in the kitchen at this semi high end tourist place so I thought, "what better gig could I get? I get to hang with my friends on a Friday and Saturday night then have fun later." I never really thought about being the only chick working behind the line....I just thought ...cool 4.25$ an hour?...I'll take it!

Little did I know what I was in for.

I started as a dishwasher. I loved it. All the leftover food you could eat. note for future dishwashers of America.... people never finish their chocolate mousse, and if you have a thing for mashed potatoes, there are always plenty of those also. I didn't care...wash the dishes, restack the dishes, eat the leftovers...and occasionally a waiter would slip me some money to save a "one bite taken off" of Filet Mignon.
I would hear them arguing.
"Table 5 hasn't even touched her steak...that is sooooooo mine." "Yeah if you fuckin bus the table like you are supposed to." "Whatever, Dude, we will split it."
Then they would show up at my slophole of a station and give me some foldin money to "hold that plate" when it comes back. No problem, losers...i don't eat steak...and I'll take your foldin money too.
Eventually the others figured out I was making cash on the side and I was given the opportunity to progress to a better job.
The Fish Room.
I stood in a room full of ice, fresh fish , a large black man, who possibly just escaped from prison, who wielded a filet knife like a Samurai....and no clean shot EXIT door. Once we bonded as co workers I was told what to do on a daily basis. Usually it went something like this: peel 50 pounds of shrimp and butterfly, shuck as many oysters as your feeble girl(he possibly said Bitch) hands can, then head your white ass over here and pull worms.
????????
No...no helminths.
NO NO NO...
"Little Red (my prison name from large black man), It's your job...get your scrawny white ass over here."

Never once in the time I worked in the fish room did I think it was an option to quit. (that didn't happen until I progressed to Fry Bitch) So, I pulled worms.
They filet the fresh Gulf fish, throw it up on a table, where I would take my young nimble fingers, grasp the wiggly part of the worm, and pull. Sometimes I would fret that it broke inside...maybe it didn't come all the way out...could I have possibly missed a side?
Until my prison friend said, "Fuck it, Lil Red, too many worms to pull, not enough time. Those rich fuckers haven't a clue...worms in their fuckin stomachs...hah! Red, this why I don't eat nothin with worms or nothin that hasn't been fried to God's Sweet Heaven" (in my mind I was picturing God frying mullet til it was a perfect crunchy piece of crap fish which you can eat wrapped in paper with ketchup...fins and all).

Prison Buddy is a smart man.

I stayed at this job until I actually didn't mind it anymore....then they moved me to salad and dessert fairy(notice how this has a nice name)...I must say...I don't miss the worms...But I do miss Prison.
So, Sushi Fridays are still the same. I rarely think about it anymore, but I thought I would leave you with this gift for your Sushi Friday or Saturday...or whatever. Enjoy, and remember...fried to "God's Sweet Heaven" may be a motto you would like to adopt.