japanese-food.jpgThere is so much I could tell you but I will only tell you the end. Or, as Mr Greene might say, “The end of the affair.”  So, to begin (or to finish?): 

It is Melbourne and winter.  Rain clouds bustle importantly across a grave skyline.  I am dressed in a suit for some conference or other although it is just a pretext to be with this girl beside me.  She is buried in a long woollen coat; she looks at the pavement in front of us as we walk; looks at me sideways and smiles.  She is taking me to lunch. 

And sure enough, down a small lane, so appropriately hidden, so aptly furtive is a small Japanese restaurant.  And it is a strange thing but as we enter I know this affair is over as sure as I know I will get on that plane tomorrow and not return. 

O, you say, how can this be that the smell of Japanese food can kill love?  Who is this schmuck who will sunder affection on the grounds of too much sushi? 

So shoot me!  I didn’t invent the world.  I’m sorry that its great moments hinge on its great littleness.  I – who eat anything from anywhere and in situ and, yes, including in Japan, that straight jacketed incestuous land of sly grog and child porn – I lost love before the Miso soup. I’m sorry but this is just not the food of illicit love; it is the food of people with no cholesterol and gym shoes.  It is not for those feasting at the table of forbidden desire.  This thing between the girl and I is an affair, not Pilates. 

But there grows in that restaurant this emptiness so big that all the sashimi in Tokyo could not fill it.  Later, in my hotel, we try to make love like we did before but it ends in tears.  I am such a whore, always capable of sex but I cannot kiss whom I do not love.     

And, you are thinking, she sensed this and rushed crying away.  No, she wept for her husband who was at home cooking her dinner.  See how beautiful she was?  For this I should have loved her again, for this I should have risen above the teriyaki.  But I lay there while she showered and I was hungry only my old solitude. 

The next day I get home and she texts to say she loves me.  O how quickly we love what we can no longer have.  Months ago I said to her, “I think I love you.”  She looked at the wall. “Love is such a big word,” was all she said.   

Standing in the arrivals terminal I read her text message over and over.  I realise that there is a whole country between us.  Who can say where love goes? 

Well, time now for us to leave that man standing in the airport looking at his mobile phone; time for us to leave that girl in Melbourne waiting almost sick for his reply.   And let’s all be very careful about what we eat.



Filed under affairs, australia, cheating, Food, life, Love, Marriage, sex

16 responses to “Lunch

  1. Doktor Holocaust

    I always thought there was something kinda fishy about love.

    and no, I’m not apologizing for the pun.

  2. S

    I frequently get the “it’s over” feeling long before it actually is over.

    Perhaps sushi would have the reverse affect on me.

  3. Someone read this over the phone to me. I may ask them to again.

    Only you could make sushi into such a poignant bedtime story.

  4. I’ve read this 4 times today. I’m rendered commentless except to say that love in all it’s biggness and smallness is really something fluid. Much like the after affects of bad sushi. Ha! There I came up with a comment.

  5. “I am such a whore, always capable of sex but I cannot kiss whom I do not love.”
    Love this.

  6. Love is such a big word. True. What other four letter word comes with so many complications…highs, lows and in betweens. But the thing with love is this: To make the journey and not fall deeply in love you haven’t lived at all. But you have to try, because if you haven’t tried, you haven’t lived. So by all means, when you’re living it, SAY it!

  7. How does it feel to cheat?? I am still asking this question and also wish I could know why people do it. I’m single so I have no idea…
    And well as I love sushi and it has always put me in the mood…go figure.

  8. Jo

    ok. that looks yummy enuf.

  9. damewiggy

    This is so powerfully written — so well executed — and stung as much as rubbing wasabe in my eyes. More sake, please. And one for the artist.

  10. Doktor Holocaust

    I reject this notion that having been in love is an essential part of life. It’s a mental illness, like any other obsession or compulsion, and you can either get over it on your own or get some professional help or, if you’re lucky, avoid it completely. the only reason people assume it’s desirable is because movies and tv shows and jewelry commercials keep showing us the euphoric bits from the early stages of the disease, to make it seem like a good thing, but they never show it becoming a massive invisible poltergeist-like monster in the room between two otherwise rational people in the later stages.

  11. Hi Dok – salmon enchanted evening you just might find that fishy love again…
    You know, S, there are probably many times in our lives when we suspect something is over and yet hang on for…who knows what?
    Thanks, Amuirin – this intrigued me actually. How did someone come to be reading my blog to you over the phoe? It’s kind of nice really.
    Simonne – We are all whores at some time in our life, don’t you think? Although, that is a bit unfair on whores who at least have the integrity to be upfront about payment.
    You’re right, dailytri – sometimes we so overstate the place of love that we forget to say it altogether.
    How does it feel to cheat, Armjerker? – exciting, adventurous, like living on the edge. How does it feel to be cheated on? Like death but without death’s peace(don’t ever do it to someone you know or like).
    Hi Jo – what looks yummy – the sashimi or adulteri?
    Thanks for the sake, damewiggy (and the good review!)

  12. Dok – you’re back already. And, you know there is a lot of truth in what yoou say. But dammit, when love is good it is just sooo good. Of course, when it is bad…

  13. Dok – you’re back already! And, you know, there is a lot of truth in what you say. But when love is good, damn, it is just sooo good. Of course, when it’s bad…

  14. Wow. Your words overpower me. Bravo.

  15. Pingback: A date with Destiny: Link-ups! « stop & wander

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