When Peter, an Asian IT guy, offered to take me for sushi there was no way in hell could I say no. I always said if I was on death row sushi would be my last meal. As in: “Warden, bring me 30 pieces of your best sushi. And throw in a couple California rolls on the side!”
I’ve spent most of my life dating creative types – musicians, writers, artists, you name it – who are unconventional and self-absorbed, so Peter was a welcomed relief. I was also pleasantly surprised after my string of short guys he was over 5’5, though certainly not the 6’ feet he claimed.
Peter fit a lot of the Asian stereotypes. He was a second generation success story who, like his own parents, was consumed with his children’s education. One, as a result, was a nationally competitive swimmer and the other has just graduated from elite college and was preparing for law school. As a parent who always fears their kid is destine for the Jerry Springer show, I was naturally curious to how one raises such well-behaved, academically gifted children, so this became the focal point of our conversation. Aside from moving to a good school district in New Jersey, however, he never did say.
When not talking about his kids, Peter reverted to short, simple sentences. “Yup.” “Nope.” “How’s your sushi?” I had to go into light, cheery overdrive and fill in the gaps with entertaining stories of my work and clients. For an hour over sushi, easy. But on a second and longer date, I’d be exhausted, so sidestepped his suggestion we meet again.
