Whoever eats the fatest eats the mostest

We visited a Japanese sushi bar recently that featured a novel 75’ conveyer belt with a  continuously circling selection of small plates of food fron their entire menu.  At first glance there seemed to be dozens of choices but in reality as few as ten.  We settled on the shrimp plates because it was the only choice we felt absolutely certain of other than the rice. The endless march of food was both mesmerizing (especially to a child with ADHD) and troubling: How long (or perhaps how far) had my food been traveling? Does someone decide or even know when a plate was put out?  We are talking about raw fish here. The sushi guys behind the glass box seemed too busy making and putting out the new stuff to consider recalling any well-traveled dishes. At the end of the meal, a woman comes around and counts your plates and adds up the damage.

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