The Yucatan Yenta
I’ve suffered a trauma. Last night at about 8:00 p.m., two devilishly handsome men in Aloha shirts sweet-talked my husband into opening the door. They shoved their way in and kidnapped me. Under protest, I sunk into the sumptuous leather seats of their Lincoln and was driven to an unfamiliar part of town, where they forced me to eat Japanese food.
You can read my write-up on the restaurant experience on the kidnapper’s website, Expats Anonymous.
What they wouldn’t allow me to print is that the tempura, consisting mainly of onions and unrecognizable vegetables, tasted exactly like the onion rings I have had at the King County Fair in Washington State.
Other than that small disagreement, we wrote the article together. And after the surprisingly good dining experience, they did bring me back home where I await their next home invasion.