Dating for Dinner

Tag: dining

911? Yes, Hello This Guy Is Trying To Make Me Pay For Dinner. Hello?

drinkingI totally get why a lot of guys dislike dating.  Essentially they’re buying a lot of food & drinks for a strange girl who’s inevitably going to hate them & probably blog the whole pathetic ordeal!  But this is what all you guys sign up for, so let me tell you what I dislike:  Guys who ask me to split the check.  Because girls, namely me, aren’t supposed to pay for food.  Guys pay for food.  It’s fucking science!

So just because you realize I don’t like to brush my hair and IUnknown actually have nothing interesting to say for myself, doesn’t mean you should go against science and make me pay for my own lobster rolls.  It’s totally rude,  totally unnatural, and I totally wouldn’t order two if I thought I had to pay for them!

I was reading an article in Cosmo that a guy is more inclined to pay for the check when the date is going well.  That’s basically saying I have to be on my best behavior and intellectual A game in order to get free food?  I didn’t sign up for that.  Did I sign up for that?  No, no I did not.  It’s just dinner, and you asked me out, so listen up.

Unknown-1The average dress costs $179, Chanel lipstick costs $50, and birth control is $15; I don’t have to be interesting & if you make me split the check I might think about spitting in your face…

It Takes A City To Feed A Girlfriend…

images-1I guess it was right about the time that my credit card got declined for an $8 latte while wearing a $200 scarf that I realized, I should probably date for dinner again.  Something about the essential charging of a cup of liquid got me to thinking I should be getting this for free. I mean imagine if I was on a coffee date I wouldn’t have to do this shit and I would get a few free baked goods as well.

As of lately, the dating has been nonexistent since I was lead to believe that having a boyfriend meant you should be monogamous or whatever.  But now that the New Year has arrived and I find myself increasingly paying for more things than I’d like, I think I should start fresh & not let a little thing like a serious relationship stand in the way of my free food.

You know as much as I’d love to take credit for this amazing concept I really can’t because the idea is actually very ancient.  Haven’t you heard that4 men African proverb?  Hillary Clinton wrote a book with the saying on the cover.  Something about It Takes a Village and then the rest of the saying which not a lot of people realize is actually: To Feed a Girlfriend.  Which definitely rings true in my case because you know, one boyfriend can only do so much.  It takes an entire village, or in my case, an entire city of New York boys to feed me.

So there you go, my dearest boyfriend, you can relax a little.  Take a load off your shoulders, babe, because thanks to me and my delusional ideas you’ve got the support of every New York City bachelor behind you.  You can thank me later!  Preferably, at NYC’s favorite French restaurant Le Bernadin… 

I Drink Bloody Mary’s On A First Lunch Date Cause That’s The Kind Of Girl I Am…

hot dudeI didn’t talk about religion, I didn’t talk about my 27 exboyfriends, & I kept the conversation far away from politics but as it turns out those aren’t the only ways to screw up first date conversations.  In my defense, I wouldn’t have had to make an inappropriate joke in front of Midtown Marketing Guy if it weren’t for this annoying baby crying a few tables over.  Seriously though, who takes babies to Blue Water Grill in Union Square?  Technically, I did not vocalize my distaste for a crying baby but I did let a death glare slip out in the direction of the struggling mother so I guess that said it all.

“So, I guess that means you don’t want kids?” He laughed in observation.  “I really love children.  I have three young nephews in Connecticut that I get to spoil.”

“I mean, I guess babies are fine,” I said while stirring the straw in my bloody mary.C004  “But they just seem like the kind of dead weight that I’d accidentally leave at a Jamba Juice or something like that.”  I said this while laughing at my little joke.  I mean talking about kids on the first date is totally obnoxious so I figured a joke would lighten the mood.  But apparently my wicked, exaggerating humor didn’t get the intended response as he just sort of looked at me with a disgusted shock on his face as if I had left his imaginary child at Jamba Juice.

“That’s terrible, Sarah…” He said with a straight face.

Terribly funny, I thought to myself before half heartedly apologizing.

I’m The Only Person I Know Who Gets Dumped Before She Has A Boyfriend…

Ok, so you know how I love snooping through Upper East Side Guy’s stuff?  Ok, well today  we had lunch at The Mermaid Inn in the East Village  and when he went to the bathroom leaving his cell phone on the table, I just thought I’d take a little peek.  I started sifting through recent text messages until I found the familiar name of an exgirlfriend.  He has one of those phones where the picture is linked to the person’s name so I finally got to put a face with blonde hair & black roots to his exgirlfriend’s name.  The conversation was lengthy on her part, but short responses on his.  It looked like she was trying to conjure up emotions from him but he was steadfast in saying things like, “It’s time to move on,” and finally the last text from him of the conversation, “Please don’t contact me anymore.” A143

So the good news is, it looks like he’s over it and no longer wants his exgirlfriend calling him again.  Yay!  The bad news is, right as I was closing out of the inbox to put it back, he walked in on me with his phone in my hand & despite my attempts at reasoning, he would ultimately prefer I didn’t call either.  Oops.

It’s Not That I Don’t Care About Other People’s Feelings, I Just Care About Mine The Most

“You’re kind of a sociopath,” He said casually,  but without malice.  It wasn’t as much as an insult as it was a passing observation between two people getting to know each other over sushi and Sake.  I mean yeah at first I laughed because I totally love Sake and talking about myself but then I paused for a second like, wait what?  A sociopath?  I looked at him a little cock-eyed as he calmly explained his position.

“Yeah, you know a common misconception is that the term, ‘sociopath’ is only used to describe serial killers.  But don’t worry Sarah, serial killers aren’t the only sociopaths out there.  A lot of people are sociopaths.” He told me as I stared back at him giving that unconvinced, like who, type of look.  “Like, for instance, politicians!”  He said, but still thinking for more classifications of people.  “Also, celebrities.  Oh, and Donald Trump!”

Well, I know you think I should have been more offended but hellooo, he went from serial killer to celebrity so that’s a nice upgrade if you ask me.  I always try to see the good in things so you know, I just ignored the criminal part and focused on the positive, elite citizen part.  He compared my personality & stature to celebrities!  Celebrities are fancy and glamorous & mostly selfish, vain individuals so I really couldn’t help but be quite flattered, or even blame him for comparing me to douchebag multi-millionaire’s…

I’m Sure We Can Clear This Whole Thing Up With A Few Presents. And Food.

Ok so even though I had originally planned to cancel my dinner date with Upper East Side Guy, I was pretty annoyed when he beat me to the punch the other night.  Yeah he was all, “Oh I can’t make it tonight I’m working later than I expected,” while I rolled my eyes thinking like, “Wait a second!  He doesn’t want to go out with me?”  Well that was just too funny because actually it was I who didn’t want to go out with him!  It was too late though to tell him that and so because I always want the last word, I had to rethink my entire plan.

Which is why I started crying!

Not like, sobbing or anything dramatic like that.  Just you know, cracked my voice a little and sniffled as I told him that while I was looking forward to it, we could always just reschedule.  He said some stuff and then I said some more stuff and blew my nose and anyway long story short, he’s taking me to dinner tonight.   But, I’m just not certain I can forgive him.  I mean how can I get past him momentarily not wanting to go out to dinner with me?  That’s a sucky feeling!  It makes you wonder, what’s wrong with me?  Why wouldn’t he want to date me?  That’s a lot of residual rejection for a very sensitive girl like I so it’s not like I can just get over it….

Unless he wants to bring me a present.  Presents usually help with rejection.  It doesn’t have to be a huge present, just something basic like a tennis bracelet or gift card redeemable for a 60 minute deep tissue massage.  Also, it would be good if there’s lump crab bruschetta at the restaurant he’s taking me to in a few minutes.  Overly expensive appetizers also help me…

I’m NEVER Going Out To Dinner With Him Again Until I’m Hungry

Oh my gawd I had to go to this really amazing sushi place last night and I’m not even exaggerating when I say that if it weren’t for the crispy rock shrimp drizzled with spicy mayo, I might have died!  I really didn’t want to go out to dinner with That Guy but what was I supposed to do?  Starve?

Although in retrospect, starvation might have been a lesser evil compared to That Guy straight up asking me in the middle of eating if my nose is fake.  It’s like I want to believe that there are half way intelligent men in Manhattan but what a fucking idiot.   Who does that?  Well, apparently That Guy does.  Of all the things to question the authenticity of on my body he chooses my nose over my huge rack?  I’m positive while I was trying to convince him that my nose is naturally this perfect, my IQ dropped significantly.  We spent at least 24 minutes talking about my nose.  A nose.  We covered it’s size, the straight line and absence of a bump but it wasn’t until we discussed how a lot of New York girls have crooked noses from their Italian and Jewish heritages that he finally dropped the subject.  That’s 24 minutes that I’m never going to get back.  I lost 24 minutes of my life talking about my nose and eating delicious rock shrimp.  I feel pretty terrible for myself.  Shit, next time he calls I’m just going to cook at home and tell him he’s a nose-obsessed moron!


LOL!  I’m totally joking you guys, don’t worry; I would never cook…

Where Are My Flap Jacks, LOSER?

The background here is that I went out with this guy a few weeks ago, let’s cleverly name him “New York Guy” for the sake of this post, and he bought me a Kate Spade dress for the date.  You can’t stop judging me any time now because I didn’t ask for the dress, I didn’t hint that he should buy me a dress, but he knew I liked Kate Spade and thus showed up at my door with a dress!  Oh you think that’s awkward?  Try acting gracious accepting a dress that’s not even the right size!  Then have to wear it despite not having the right color flats and sitting through a dinner revolving solely around him, his work, & how his “stupid Porsche doesn’t go fast enough.”  In short it was horrifying, but I got through it  and managed to survive to invite him out for drinks the other night with my friend Spacey Stacey who was visiting from Atlanta.

The morning after the three of us met up, Spacey Stacey and I woke up in bed still drunk, recounting the previous night’s events.  I played on Seamless.com ordering us hangover drinks from the local market while she brought up with disgust how NYC Guy dominated the conversation with his negativity and abrasive input form the moment he sat down.  First it was a rant about how he, “hates runners” after I mentioned I completed a half marathon last weekend and then it was, “Ew don’t go to the Zoo there’s a retarded Polar Bear and it’s a waste of money,” after she expressed her excitement for Central Park Zoo.  We were both fuming by the time we remembered the straw that broke the camel’s back: he blatantly asked me to buy him a drink.

“Why would I buy you a drink?”  I had questioned with a laugh, looking at Stacey across the table for mutual disbelief.  Was that like, a really awful joke?  What kind of gentleman asks a lady to purchase a drink for him?  A 16 dollar drink, no less!  I was astounded, but he would not be shown up with my blasting comment.

“Why would I buy you a $300 dress?!”  He said back to me, leaning over the table towards me as my jaw dropped.

“Why don’t I just go to the bathroom!” Stacey said as she got up hoping to avoid the drama that was ensuing.

I stopped our reminiscing and got up from the bed to find us some Advil.  Our headaches were splitting from the Grey Goose & Grapefruits we had on the rooftop at Gansevort Hotel.  I shut the curtains to keep the rising sun out and shouted back to Stacey from the kitchen how NYC Guy and I didn’t make up while she had gone to the bathroom.  We didn’t fix the situation or resolve whatever hostility he had but by the time Stacey came back from the restroom I was ignoring him and asking for the bill even though we had sat down only 30 minutes prior.  It was a terribly uncomfortable situation, we remembered, as Stacey and I offered up our debit cards and he just sat back finishing his drink.

“I guess he deserved that text you sent him after he left us at dinner!”  Stacey said before chugging a water bottle.

“What text?” I asked her.  I wasn’t surprised to have forgotten a few things and it wasn’t long after I grabbed my phone that I found the conversation with a number I had deleted; him calling me a “bad attitude princess” and my last retort,  “Whatever…THANKS FOR THE DRESS LOSER!”  I had to laugh out loud.  Loser?  Really, Sarah?  What 26 year old says, “Loser?”  I felt bad in that moment, like I should text him now that everybody had left the scene and there wasn’t alcohol in our systems.  But what would I say after that?

“Say that we’re hungry and we want him to send us some breakfast!”  Stacey said with a pillow over her face.  We looked at each other and had a good laugh, then a moment of silence as I contemplated how funny it would be to ask a generous favor after such a horrible evening.  We cracked up mimicking his potential responses to such an outlandish request and so since we were still buzzing from the cocktails, I did.

Me:  Hey!  We had a blast last night, let’s do it again :)

Him:  Girls like you don’t know how to have fun.

Me:  Glad you had fun too!  Hey, do you want to order us breakfast to be delivered?  But I don’t want to pay for it ;)

Me:  I’m thinking I’d like pancakes.  Blueberries on the side.

Him:  You’re ridiculous.

Me:  Fine, I’ll pay for half but Stacey doesn’t like pulp in her OJ, can you have them strain it?

Me:  Hello?

Me:  Babe you’re being distant, is something wrong?

Me:  Can you ask for extra ketchup for my hash browns?

Him: STOP TEXTING ME!

Stacey and I snorted like little (skinny) pigs over the hilarity of the situation while I proceeded to harass him all morning about the alleged pancakes.  I kept this up for a few hours before I finally felt like I had tortured NYC Guy enough for his wrong doings.  You might think we’re bitches but actually we are not.  I honestly did a service by conditioning him to see what happens when he tries to ask a girl to buy him a drink.  Now because of my charitable act, he knows he will get virtually pestered for a sum total of 3 hours and 26 minutes, or 36 text messages revolving around Pancakes if he asks for a free drink.  His future dates are indebted to me forever.  Your move Mother Theresa!

Never Talk About Religion, Politics, Or Your Stupid Whiny Kids On A First Date.

Okay so last night at dinner my date was talking about his child having separation anxiety which is a situation that really hits home with me because I too  know the struggles of being the center of someone’s world.  So right about the time I tried to sympathize with him and share my own personal experience is the same time I learned that being a dog owner is not, “like the same thing” as being a single dad and I “shouldn’t compare the two.”  Well excuuuse me! Apparently this guy takes the whole dad thing pretty seriously but whatever the joke’s on him because he’s obviously never met my dog and the only difference between a high maintenance, attention whoring child and Jackson is that I can put mine in a cage for 7 hours while I go work.  Other than that the similarities are uncanny.

I could tell by the way he sighed and looked around the room giving the, “she just ruined dinner” look that he had no sense of humor so I just kept quiet and enjoyed my zucchini tarts.  The tarts by the way, were a little overcooked and could have used a more flavorful aioli but the real point of the story here is that it’s not a good idea to go out with someone who you have nothing in common with.  So with that lesson being learned I can promise you that I’m never going out with someone who has kids, ever again!

Well, unless I’m hungry.  Or if he’s super hot.  And wants to take me to a rooftop in the Meat Packing District…

then I probably will…

Going Out To Eat For The “Company?” Like, Is That Even A Thing?

It was very simple.  The sandwich was listed on the menu being served on a Ciabatta bread coated with hummus, then filled with grilled eggplant, zucchini, onions, peppers, and tomatoes.   Now that sounds like a decent vegetable sandwich if you have no taste buds, so what I tried to do was take a potentially good sandwich and bring it up to it’s full possibility of fabulous.

“I’ll have the vegetable sandwich please,” I asked very politely since I’m always pretending to be polite on a first date.  “But instead of Ciabatta bread, can I have that on Focaccia?  And if you could please leave off the peppers and onions especially, and add goat cheese and arugala- that would be great!”

Don’t think that was a high maintenance order because it wasn’t.  Anyway this is New York City; we order off the menu and establishments deal with it.  So you can imagine my horror when the sandwich came out on burnt Focaccia, without eggplant or hummus and an excess of onions!  I let out a huge sigh.  Of all the things to screw up, I complained to myself,  it had to be the onions.  I wasn’t going to cry about it– that would be ridiculous since I wasn’t wearing water proof mascara but I was going to be that girl and send the sandwich back to the kitchen.

“Can’t you just take off the onions?”  He asked, as if that was even a reasonable option.  I sat there a moment and reflected on his worse than dog shit idea.  If I could “just take off the onions,” I thought silently,  then yes I would “just take off the onions!”   But I can’t “just take off the onions” you fucking idiot because they soak whatever they touch with their wretched flavor.

No honey,” I said finally, sitting up straight.  I have to have good posture when I’m being a condescending bitch otherwise I just look like a bitch with poor form.  “I’m allergic…” I lied.  It wasn’t even a convincing lie.  But who is going to argue with me when I say I have a food allergy?

“You’re allergic?”  He looked surprised at first and then concerned before scanning the room to get the server’s attention.

“Oh yes, very.  Very allergic!”  I said while furrowing my brow.  True, I’m not allergic.  If I eat a piece of onion my lips aren’t going to swell and I won’t break out in hives.  But I will spit out my food, make a lemon-licking-face, and whine about the taste for several minutes- sooooo I think that counts as a bad reaction!  It’s not a pleasant experience for all parties involved so I sent it back on the pretense of my allergy lie and was thankfully, able to enjoy my sandwich the right way.  Phew!

I told my girlfriend this story the other day and she got kinda pissed at me.  She’s such a weirdo she said my sandwich shouldn’t have been the focus of the date?  Yeah and then she continued with her malarky saying something like, “Sarah, it’s about the company not the food!”   Ha Ha, what was she even talking about?  I had to laugh because it sounded like she actually thought going on a date for the company is a real thing.  I bet she believes in aliens too…

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