After a lovely weekend at my mum’s house (more on that it in a later post) my sister offered to drop me off at Stockport Train Station to catch my train back to Birmingham, thus bypassing two major changes and saving me about an hour of time.
In direct contrast to the journey the day before, the train was packed. I was lucky to be able to find an available seat (much to the annoyance of the rather disgruntled woman that I sat next to) but by the time I had organised myself lots of others had been forced to stand. I made myself comfortable, took out my phone and set up my playlist for the journey ahead.
In the seats opposite were a young male and female and judging by their conversation they had only just met. He was slightly older than her and a little rough around the edges, while she was quite well spoken and demure. As the journey continued it became evident that there was a mutual attraction – he joked and teased her about the car that she drove, she giggled at his silly jokes and in between a few awkward silences they both tried to ask each other questions about each others lives without appearing too desperate. He said he was 24, she claimed that she was 20 (although she looked a little younger), she explained where she had been the night before, he appeared interested and listened intently… It was very sweet.
About an hour into the journey the man pulled out the biggest box of sushi I’ve ever seen, proclaiming that he ate large amounts of it. I was a little confused by this – his efforts to impress may have been thwarted by the smell that permeated from it, but the girl seemed unfazed and the light flirting continued. Mr Sushi was obviously beginning to gain in confidence – he made a few derogatory comments about himself, thus giving her the opportunity to compliment him and then made a statement about ‘not being able to chat up a girl properly.’ Her response was, again, to giggle.
As nosey as I may sound, their conversation kept me entertained all the way to Birmingham New Street Station. Just as the train arrived and I got up to leave, I heard Mr Sushi ask for her phone number. Unfortunately, there was a huge queue of people behind me that forced me to walk off the train, and I didn’t get to hear her answer.
AARGH!!
Thus is the eternal mystery that I will never know the answer to. Did Mr Sushi get the girl’s phone number????
In my little world, I hope he did. Despite the sushi.
Picture 1: supergreenlandmarket.com
Picture 2: Casey Diggs
What a wonderful tale, I’m equally nosey btw. That plate of sushi looks fabulous, if what he offered her was anything like that she may well have given him her number or maybe she just asked him for the number of the sushi bar lol 🙂
Thank you! It was about the same size as this, but in a plastic container rather than in a beautiful bowl…
So!!!!!!! Do I stock up on sushi or not?
Thats the thing… I dont know! I would say keep some in your bag just in case 😉
Sushi isn’t supposed to smell! Although after an unrefrigerated hour in a bag or a backpack, I can imagine it would!
I think the smell came more from the dressing that he put on it… Possibly?
Can’t answer that one. You’re the one who was there! 🙂
I don’t know about the girl, but fur a plate of sushi, I’ll give him my number! (purrs)!
Haha! Thanks Shrimp!
Purrs!
You said they were asking questions without trying to appear too desperate. Pulling out the sushi was the ultimate act of nonchalance. Take me and my sushi or leave me. Loved it.
Thank you very much!!
the girls number was 1-800-ITSMELLSLIKEFISHDOWNTHERESOITHINKWESHOULDDATE
I was waiting for a comment like that 😉
Great little post. I really enjoyed it. Thank you.
Thank you very much!
I think he got the number 😉
I would think that maybe eating sushi well after an hour at room temperature (???) is probably a Darwin Award waiting to happen. Maybe its best she didn’t get his number! (wink)
Reblogged this on Suzie81 Speaks and commented:
I woke up ridiculously early this morning and was going through some old posts… This one made me smile…
Hi Susie, my son lives sushi and has it whenever they go out. I have never eaten it so no longer go with them I live mussels , though. Can you help me, please , my
You’ll have to get back on that train so we can read the sequel!
Great story! It’s like one of those Swedish films where you’re left with more questions than answers. I’ll just pretend that he got her number and they lived happily ever after, in a home next to a sushi restaurant.
Yes, he got her telephone number. He will phone her – they will meet, fall in love – have a whirlwind romance – get married. He will finish cooking school and become the new Jamie Oliver – she will finish her law degree and join a small Law Firm – they will be happy and have three children, two girls and a boy.
That is so adorable. I watched a girl twerk at a bus stop yesterday while I was waiting for my light to change. She was sort of pointing her backside to the cars next to her that were trapped there because of the red light…only slightly LESS CUTE than your story.
On a similar note – I’m not a sushi eater. It doesn’t interest me in the slightest. But how to do you get to a point that you love it so much that you whip out a dish of it on public transit while chatting up what could potentially be the love your your life?! Enlighten me Sushi eaters!!!!
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