Making bets is something at which I suck. If you’re ever around me, and I’m gambling or in any way placing a bet, I guarantee you a win if you bet the opposite of me. Shaking on it with me? You’re a shoe in for a pay day.
Unless you’re poor Michael Carnell. He and I shook on a bet last week over lunch. The loser of the bet has to buy the winner’s lunch of choice. At midnight tonight, Carnell is losing that bet. He’s going to have to buy my lunch.
I’m already drooling.
Have I mentioned lately that I have chef friends? I have already dreamed of calling my friend Nico Romo and asking him to recreate the James Beard dinner I had last December in New York. All the courses, from the hors d’oeuvres to dessert, many hours of pigging out and over one hundred dollars per person. Carnell’s buying, after all, and he didn’t have that meal. He escaped the pleasure of seeing me eat a snail and proclaim it yummy, only to see Nico gloat because he put cilantro in the sauce.
Or, maybe I will ask John Ondo to make our grub, though calling his food ‘grub’ is an insult. Once, I asked him to make a meal for MTM and me, whatever he wanted us to eat. He served up the most delectable steak I’ve ever eaten, topped with oysters, which I can’t stand – unless John makes them, apparently. I think I ran my tongue all over the plate. Another worthy gastronomic contender to claim Carnell’s moolah.
No no. I have the answer. Carnell is going to take me for a sushi lunch, omakase style. The chef could serve us anything, and I mean ANYTHING. Shrimp still moving in the plate, head and tail separate but together. Potentially deadly blowfish. Sea urchin roe, a yellow bit of gonad-goodness that has the consistency of snot. Sushi. Chef choice. THAT is what I want, and Carnell is going to buy it for me AND eat it.
Do you feel sorry for Carnell yet, Dear Reader? He almost vomited the only time I’ve ever seen him eat sushi. He calls it ‘bait.’ Too bad for him. Because I never win bets, I am going to gloat and celebrate and RUB IT IN.
What was our little wager, you ask? By midnight tonight, Carnell bet me that he could get me to 1,000 Likes on my Facebook author page. The sidebar on the right side of my blog shows where I am. (Last time I checked, I was at 876.) So, he has failed. He has lost the bet. THANK ALL THE HINDU GODS I do not have to eat what he will surely choose for me – Indian food, smothered in cilantro.
Unless………YOU want to help him beat me.
Too Much is Just Enough: Winning