On Display

They all think I am beautiful. I am spectacular, they say. I squat on the tabletop, with my hard red chest puffed up to demonstrate my assets. They want me to be seen by all. They all worship me. “Irasshaimase!” I look down to the worshippers on my right, two men talking business, drinking their sake. They try to look away from me, but they can’t. I am beautiful. I am beautiful. The worshippers to the left of me, a father and his son, are whispering to each other while fumbling with their chopsticks. I think my presence is confusing that boy. It somehow feels inappropriate. I feel bad for my friends in the back. I am all anybody is talking about. I am special. I am special. “Irasshaimase!” A young man with stubble and a wallet chain enters and looks me up and down, swallowing the water his mouth is secreting. “Omakase,” he orders, “as long as the crustacean is involved.” I stare ahead at the bamboo wallpaper in front of me, pretending I don’t notice him admiring me some more.


About Megan Dobkin

Megan Dobkin is a recovered film and tv producer who finally decided it was time to stare at her own damn blinking cursor. When she isn’t writing, she is answering ridiculously challenging Star Wars and science questions from the two boys who hang out in the backseat of her car.

>> Megan Dobkin's author page

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