Bond Street Sushi, 8:30 pm.
I put a bite in my mouth, and I realize with searing clarity...
That I am eating food beyond luxury.
That I am overly full, but will forge ahead.
That I am so far from the basic caloric requirements needed to sustain myself.
That this, this bite of sushi, garnished with edible gold leaf, represents excess in the sweetest, most offensive sense.
That John D. Rockefeller, the first American billionaire, never tasted the combination of flavors I am tasting.
It is so inappropriate that I am eating a living wage in every bite.
My conscience joins my stomach in signaling to my brain to stop.
And yet I do not.
Of course I do not.
And this is all before the dessert course.
Damn, that was good.
