Welcome to Sushi World. Bring your camera, notify your next of kin and prepare to gorge on raw fish while being completely weirded out.
The sign outside Sushi World that reads "open 24 hours" was what dragged me through the doors. I figure, if this place is good at lunchtime, imagine how awesome it would be in a Deep Ellum booze haze on a Friday at 4 a.m.
Walking inside, I was immediately greeted by the chef-hatted owner of the restaurant, Mr. Kang. He fist-bumped me, then immediately rang a giant gong. Uh, rad.
Sushi World 1001 Ross Ave. 214-999-6050
Karaoke machine count: 1 Completely black, rape-den interior count: 1
Turns out the giant gong summons a waiter, Lurch-style. Even radder.
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There are several items on the menu that are under 10 bucks. But, I decided, fukkit, I'll splurge, and I ordered a spicy salmon roll ($6.99) and a Texas roll ($17.99. When I saw the price, my eyeballs Large-Marged out of head. I mean, what the balls are they charging $18 for when they don't even have to cook most of the fish? Maybe "fried shrimp, king crab meat and salmon" actually means "laced with cocaine.").
Seconds later, my ridiculously courteous (like, so nice I was kinda freaked out) waiter showed up to my table with a free four-piece house sushi roll. It was crunchy; there seemed to be avocado and seaweed involved plus a sweet sauce. It was good. Also, did I mention it was free?
I jammed to the eerie electronica over the speakers ("Is Bill Nye shooting a porn or have I made it to the Super Mario Bros. boss level?") until the food showed up. Mr. Kang delivered it along with a coupon for a free Texas roll on my next visit. Awesome! And then, he decided to sit down and watch me and my friend eat. He says he hates the rain because it makes downtown smell like a sewer. (Despite this story, my spicy salmon roll is still tasty.) He goes on to tell a story of a car accident he got into on LBJ Freeway. He says there was "blood everywhere." (Mmmm. Texas roll. So delicious, not to mention it's at least double the size of the salmon roll. Just have your pimp buy it for you instead of buying it yourself.)
As we were leaving, David Lynch turned to me and was like, "Dude, that shit was fucked up." I was like, "C'mon, he gave you daps." Lynch shrugged.