Sushi Nazi

I went to Smashville for an interview yesterday. It went well. The job seems very similar to the one I have now. Finished at noon, I was fairly hungry and remembered a sushi place I had stumbled across in Nashville a couple of years ago. I couldn't remember the name or location so I called The Girlfriend and had her do a little research on the web. She found "Sam's Sushi Bar" downtown. I was a little skeptical, wouldn't I remember a Sushi restaurant named "Sam's"? In a game mood I drove over there and bam! there it was on the corner of Printer's Alley, right next to the "Brass Stable" (note to self: must check out the Brass Stable). I walked in and it was just as I remembered. An Asian man sat on a stool behind the counter watching TV. There were three tables in the whole place and a sign on the counter that said "Write your order on this pad, write your name, write here or to go, do not bother the cook." I wrote my order (spicy tuna roll and smoked salmon roll), my name and for here. I then walked to the self serve cooler and grabbed a beer. The chef continued to watch Springer for another five minutes and then finally stood up and got to work. He called my name and I was rewarded with two huge rolls that I greedily began to gobble down. While eating I watched the other patrons come and go, all performing the same little dance that the explicit instructions demanded. It seemed like a pretty smooth operation, the chef taking his time making the orders during breaks from "I Slept With My Step-Father Because I Wanted To Try Out My New Titties," the customers patiently waiting for their food. Until.....some poor bastard made the mistake of taking the pad that is used to write your order back to his table. The chef turned around, noticed that his pad was missing and immediately burst into a tirade that can be likened to the soup nazi from Seinfeld. A lot of heavily accented "If you can't follow the rules, you go now!" The patron sheepishly returned the pad to it's proper place and all was right again at Sam's Sushi Bar.

I finished my lunch, carried the plate back to the man that I assume is Sam, and looked at him. He pointed at the cooler, confused for a minute I finally figured it out and said "oh, I had a beer." He looked at me for a minute, raised his eyebrows and pointed at the cooler again. "Ummmm, a Bud Light?" I replied, unsure of what he wanted. This seemed to satisfy him and he said, again heavily accented "$6.25." I gave him a ten and he frowned. "Don't you have a quarter?" Lucky for me, I did. I paid for my repast, a reasonable sum if you ask me, and left, belly full of sushi.

So if you are in downtown Nashville, check out Sam's Sushi Bar, good food, cheap with a little attitude that makes your day interesting.