Benny Hana

Every year when I was young and my birthday would roll around I would ask my mother to take me to Benihana’s Japanese Restaurant.  I friggin loved that place.  I loved every single course it offered, the soup that looks like dishwater, the salad with the ginger dressing and the main meal -even the vegetables! I loved that there was entertainment while I waited for my dinner, that I could get a Shirley Temple with an umbrella in it, and my favorite thing was when they sang “Happy Birthday” to me in their native tongue.  The whole thing was awesome. Even as I am older, every year as my birthday rolls around, I think fondly of my younger years that I spent celebrating my birthday with knives whipping around my head and a whole bunch of strangers sitting at my table and inevitably, my thoughts go to a chef that I picked up at the restaurant in my later years.  As I do not recall him name, I will call him “Benny”.

I was around 20 or 21 years old and I came home from south Florida for a visit.  It must have been around my birthday- or perhaps it wasn’t- but in any event; my mother wanted to take me out to dinner and as I could never afford such a meal living on my own, I chose Benihana.

As the chef walked to the table, I was curious.  He wasn’t one of the old men that barely spoke a lick of English that typically cooked my meal. He was young! And cute! He seemed rather tall (or maybe it was the chef’s hat) and understood me when I spoke (bonus!) and I will admit that if I need to flirt with the Hibachi Chef in order to get an extra shrimp or two, that’s what I’m gonna do. So by the end of the night, as I finished my extra food, we exchanged phone numbers and made a date.

I don’t recall a whole lot after that, whether we hung out a couple of times or not (it couldn’t have been an awful lot as I was on a timeframe, having to get back to Florida and all that), but I do remember the end result.  We ended up in the sack.

It was literally the ONLY time that I had no idea where we were at in the process.  Was it in? Was it out? Was he done yet? No fucking clue. Literally. That poor guy was hung like a mouse.  Here I was all proud of myself for my first “United Colors of Benetton” experience and lo and behold it was completely anti-climactic. Poor Benny; he had no idea whatsoever that he hadn't rocked my world that there was no way in hell that I was going to waste my time with *that* again. He called and called my mother’s house trying to get another date with me prior to my leaving but I was really very busy visiting with my friends and family...or filing my nails...or watching paint dry....you get the idea.  

At the time, I was young and still pretty naive when it came to men and I thought maybe it was a nationality thing.  I kept thinking to myself that Japanese women are pretty tiny so maybe they are getting more out of it than I did. I mean, clearly it must work for them as there didn't seem to be a reproduction issues in Japan- it's not like they were on the endangered animal list. 

That being said, while it was not my last Benetton experience, I was never presented with the opportunity to bed another Japanese man; which still left me quite curious.  So of course, I Googled it. 

And this is what I found:

Click on the link:  Fascinating!!

Any thoughts?