I had sushi for lunch a couple days ago with Ben and Mark. Now, I love
sushi, and pretty much do what I can to eat it whenever possible. Not
having had breakfast, I was particularly hungry. I finished my roll in
record time and, having not silenced my tummy, began eyeing one of the
last two pieces left on Ben's plate. Surely a deal can be struck where I
could partake of at least one of those morsels. There was.

** The Bet

[[http://www.flickr.com/photos/jamesaimonetti/113750707/][[[http://static.flickr.com/40/113750707_0f7cf570c0_s.jpg]]]]

** The Prize

[[http://www.flickr.com/photos/jamesaimonetti/113750708/][[[http://static.flickr.com/52/113750708_5de456a330_s.jpg]]]]

** I'll take that bet

[[http://www.flickr.com/photos/jamesaimonetti/113750709/][[[http://static.flickr.com/36/113750709_9c64250e5a_s.jpg]]]]
Once the wasabi entered my mouth, I broke it into three more managable
sub-blobs. Each one, on spreading out over my tongue and hitting my
throat, felt like a kick in the crotch by an NFL placekicker. The upside
was that the discomfort lasted only moments. The downside was that it
still felt like getting kicked in the crotch. After much coughing,
reddening of the face, and assuring a fellow patron that I was okay, the
wasabi was down, the previously eaten sushi remained internal, and I
began to eye my prize. Not fazed by what I had just done, I promptly
dipped the morsel into my soy-wasabi mixture, thereby eliciting another
kick-to-the-crotch sensation, though this time only with the power of a
1st grader. I must say, it was well worth it.