There’s a little sushi place across the road from the flat we used to live in. We’ve been eating there whenever we can afford to for a few years now, and we’d got to know the couple who owned and ran the place: Alex and Queenie. They would greet us by name whenever we pitched up, we’d chat to them a bit, it was nice. It was the first time I ever felt like a “regular” somewhere, where the owners could predict what table we’d sit at and what we would order.
I never much liked that area we lived in. My fondest place-centered memories are of the “dates” we went on, which were basically always at the sushi restaurant. It’s the only thing we drive back for since we moved at the beginning of the year. It’s been a financially sticky couple of months, so we hadn’t been there in a while, but we decided to go last night. We were greeted by two different faces. Apparently Alex sold the business and went back to China. We’re not sure what Queenie’s up to. Maybe they got divorced. I don’t know. But they’re not there anymore. The sushi was still good (though different to the stuff Alex always made) and the new guys were friendly, but it was really sad, and we left feeling strange. I hate that the last time we saw them, we didn’t know it would be the last time. Apparently they left two months ago. That means it must’ve been shortly after our last visit. I would’ve liked to say goodbye and thanks for all the awesome sushi and happy memories.
It’s a silly thing, but I always feel weird and floaty and thinky and sad when stuff changes and it’s out of my control. At least we had sushi. Sushi always helps.