You want some Yellowfin Tuna?

My buddy Steel caught a 65-pound tuna the other day and I’ve been eating like a king since then.

OK, steel it

The Counselor dropped me a line outta the blue and we had a relatively nice conversation, which I’ll just keep to myself.

She may be the only woman in NYC that hasn’t told me to go fuck myself.

Then again, it’s early in the week, yet.

My buddy Steel hit me up too.

Him: Can you come by and pick up some yellowtail tomorrow?
Me: Heck yeah!

The last time he gave me fish from one of his massive fishing trips was almost a decade ago. Still remember it well; it was right around my old gym.

Me: Waking up at two am to go out in the middle of the ocean in a small boat? That’s like my nightmare. Then again…tuna!

I had a wife and no kid then. And I was hanging out with a completely different set of people.

It’s like that was a different me altogether.

Same for him.

This time he went fishing with a couple of dot com millionaires and his chief surgeon brother. They dropped six figures for the two-day trip.

Him: Yeah, they had serious fuck-you money. This bottle of wine was $1,200 and we had three of them.
Me: Dammit, why can’t we have fuck-you money?
Him: We became lawyers.
Me: Man, that was dumb. Well, at least we hang out with people that have fuck-you money.

Like I said, we’re the average of the five people we hang out with the most. There was a time I made it a point to be the least successful outta the people I hung out with.

Been reassessing what I’ve been doing with my time and with whom. I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking through the last couplea years.

Anywho, they ended up catching THREE yellow-fin tunas; he caught the 65 pound one.

This is him with it; I should note that he’s six-foot-two and looks like Clark Kent so this fish was massive.

We went out drinking and eating in his hood. I chatted up the Irish waitress who had this really cool brogue.

Me: You know, my son’s part Irish. I should bring him by here to hear what his people sound like.
Her: You should, sweetie!

She then asked if we had lost a sandal.

Who walks outta a bar missing a sandal? NYC’s a strange town.

Sorry so blurry. We had been drinking for a while and that dude pounds.

Steel just bought an apartment in a brand new building on the UES and we walked by it. It was gorgeous.

Me: OK, I need you to do me a solid. If I ever have a date around here, I’m gonna bring her by, tell her this is my pad, and you and the fam have gotta jet.
Him: (laughing) Sure.

Not (necessarily) his pad, but you get the idea.

He ended up giving me like six pounds of tuna or so, which I tried my best to do justice to.

This was attempt number two. Man…you don’t wanna see attempt number one.

My dad used to make me sashimi/sushi all the time. Since I was a little kid.

Was always embarrassed that I had to eat raw fish when my friends got to have pizza. What a dumb kid I was.

Steel and Bryson were amongst the last of my friends to ever have seen him. I’m glad it was them.

I’ll tell you about that someday.

I wish I learned how to make sushi from him. I wish I did a lotta things with him but we ran outta time.

Shit. When you love someone, there’s never enough goddamn fucking time.

I miss him terribly.

Location: earlier this week, someplace called “the Upper East Side”
Mood: on high alert
Music: bring back the water, let your ships roll in (Spotify)
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2 replies on “You want some Yellowfin Tuna?”

I’d just like some screw you money. Or respectfully back off money. I’m very simple. My dad became a boat shareholder and I’m like what planet do we live on now???? We are not boat people.

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