Originally published at: https://boingboing.net/2019/12/11/please-tell-me-where-this-conv.html
…
Oh, you’ll go, alright.
#foodpoisoning
It looks like the Wasabi Sushi at Tysons Corner Mall (same awning, similar set up) in Va.
Note plate covers for the handy inclined:
One does not simply import food service strategies from cultures with radically different norms of personal hygiene and public decorum…
I believe this place is called HELL - where there is unlimited sushi and unsupervised children (both of which are the worst kind of each).
“Now let’s get your bill. You bought this one, and this one, and this one…”
…ah, if only.
Unless you’re licking the clear plastic covers over the plates rather than eating the sushi underneath, you should be fine.
If you are licking the clear plastic covers, you may be part of the problem…
I like how the mom finally notices and pulls the brat’s hand away - only to have it start touching plates with the other hand! All while dad sits there watching not doing a damn thing.
Hey mom! How about you remove the little monkey from the table and make her sit in a chair like a human.
Yes indeed, I completely missed that the plates all had covers on them until I checked the comments. That is slightly less terrifying.
Although my impression is that she was doing so to keep little fingers from getting stuck in the conveyor belt, not for any care about the other patrons.
I can only tell you where it isn’t: Japan.
Parents who sit their kids on food service surfaces should be flogged. Chairs exist for a reason. Ick.
Does anyone else find it highly apt that the dad is wearing a short that says “USA” on it?
It’s the tryouts for the new Typhoid Mary, I think.
oh how I hope there’s a heaping plate of just wasabi that rolls on by.
Hands on the plates is definitely a health hazard. But so is letting her sit on the counter. Just bad choices all around.
Don’t worry - I’m positive that kid is fully vaccinated.
Wait, what?
When I was in my twenties I had breakfast with my 85 year old grandma. We ate at in a quint refurbished house that was turned into a restaurant. On each of the tables there was a glass jam jar with a metal spoon in it. I mentioned to my grandmother how thoughtful it was to reduce jam packaging this way, but she frowned and said “I would never use that.” I asked why and she said “A kid could come along and lick the spoon.” I was slightly taken aback and thought that it was sad she was so mistrusting.
But now in my early fifties I realize she was right.