MM Dameron Creates

By MM Dameron

I’ve never been a fan of seafood, and ever since I was a kid I’ve always hated the annoying heat and strange stickiness that the air every hibachi restaurant seems to have swirling about. However, when you make your current fling, maybe-something-down-the-line suggest what to get for dinner and he brings up $10 all-you-can-eat sushi at the local Samurai and offers to pay as well, you might as well grit your teeth and bear with the undercooked fish and overcooked rice that you’ll inevitably have to force down your throat. 

So I’m now sitting in an uncomfortable chair with four strangers on the other side of me and my date thoroughly entranced by the ting-tangs of the chef’s spatula. Meanwhile, I am decidedly bored of all these theatrics and I’d really just like my food already, thank you very much Mr. Hashimoto. Idly, I glance around from my seat, using this as an opportunity to ignore the man three times my age checking me out from the other end of my table. I take a look at the other grills around me, each seating a different arrangement of complete strangers who look just as nervous and impatient as I am, though one table seems to have a birthday party for some single guy who just turned 40 and all of his friends have babies and they just had to bring them to see some fire and let them cry about it. 

“Egg roll!” Cries Mr. Hashimoto. “Egg roll!” Repeats my date, trying to get me invested. I just clap lazily.

Something curious catches my eye from the birthday table. Everyone’s eyes widen as the chef brings out the largest tentacle I’d ever seen on a tray, as the birthday guy’s arms shoot up in excitement. The thing has to be as big as he is, and he’s not a short guy by any measure. The chef begins to prepare it, chopping it up on the grill, and I swear I see it twitch just a little bit on the table. Everyone else sits a little further back, while the birthday guy leans forward instead. I stay locked in on the giant tentacle, even as Mr. Hashimoto erupts a meager onion volcano. 

As their chef makes another big chop of the tentacle, it once again twitches wildly, this time visible for all to see. By now, everyone in the restaurant has turned their attention away from their poor hibachi-ists trying to entertain their audiences and all eyes are stuck on the kraken-sized arm of seafood squirming on the grill. Another chop, and this time the chef has to actually dodge out of the way of the thing as it nearly takes off his head. Obviously this wasn’t his first time handling this kind of beast.

As we’re all entranced by the view, I hear something even stranger come from the kitchen behind me. Something between a low groan and a clicking sound, just beyond the swinging doors. Someone says something frantic in Japanese, and there is a clattering of pots and pans hitting the ground which causes me to spin around in confusion. 

Through the plexiglass peep hole in the door, I catch a brief glimpse of something… terrible. Tentacles writhing about, a long head that looked unlike any animal I’d ever seen, even in photos, and a mouth that looked large enough to swallow a man whole. That wasn’t any ordinary squid they were serving up as a birthday special. Its multiple glassy eyes darted around the room, and I swear it steals a glance at me before the chefs in back move to block my line of sight with it. 

I turn back to the birthday table, and my stomach lurches. They had already gotten a bit of the monster grilled up, and the birthday guy was cutting up a piece that’s a bit too big on its own. I can’t stand to watch any more, as I grab my purse and hastily make my way out of the hibachi restaurant, without saying goodbye to my date, who was still entranced by the meal across the floor from us.

Their seafood is just a bit too fresh for my liking.