Page 29 of Pucking Matt
I force myself to chew, feeling the fat from the pork belly coat my mouth in a way that makes me want to grab the nearest toothbrush. The clam resists, requiring more effort than I've ever put into eating anything in my life.
“This is something,” I manage to say, trying not to gag.
Zack just nods, looking a bit green. “I think I preferred the beans.”
Then, we tackle the Gyusashi. The moment I see it, I know we're in trouble. It's basically raw red meat, and it's literally dripping blood. I've eaten my fair share of rare steaks, but this is on another level.
I take a tentative bite and immediately regret it. The taste of iron hits me like a punch to the mouth. The texture is chewy, almost rubbery, and with every bite, more blood oozes out. It drips down my chin, and I feel like I'm in some kind of vampire movie gone wrong.
That's it. I'm done. I spit it out, not even caring about looking tough anymore.
“Nope. That's where I draw the line. I'm out.”
Zack looks relieved, not even putting it in his mouth. “Oh, thank God. I thought you were gonna say I should try it.”
I shake my head, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Disgusting.”
We stare at the remaining sushi, a mix of relief and disgust on our faces.
“Well,” I say, closing the containers. “I don't know about you, but that was–” I shake my head. “I think I owe us both some real food. Dinner's on me.”
Zack looks at the pan he burnt his food on. “You don't have to tell me twice. Where to?”
“Anywhere that doesn't serve raw meat or fermented anything,” I reply, grabbing my keys. “I'm thinking greasy burgers and fries. Something to scrub the taste of whatever that was out of our mouths.”
Harvey calls me while we’re heading to Smokey’s for a burger and fries.
“What’s up, man?” I answer on speaker.
“Hey, where you at?”
“Grabbing some dinner with Zack. What’s going on?”
“So, I invited the girls to the game, and then I just invited them to the after party.”
“What, man?” I scoff. “What girls?”
“Amber and Jen.”
“Why?” I shake my head.
Zack looks over at me and whispers, “Amby?”
I ignore him, turning my attention back to the road. “Hey, Harv. Meet me at Smokey’s right now.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, dude, right now. I have to talk to you.”
I pull into Smokey's parking lot, the smell of grease and burgers already making my mouth water. After that sushi fiasco, I'm ready for some good old-fashioned American grease on a plate.
“Dude, I can't believe we actually ate that stuff,” he groans.
I nod, grimacing at the memory. “Tell me about it. I think my taste buds are filing for divorce.”
We slide into a booth. The waitress saunters over, notepad in hand. I flash her a smile, enjoying the way her cheeks flush.
I say, “I'll take the biggest burger you've got, extra fries, and a chocolate shake.”
