Friday, March 25, 2005
Service: * * *
Food: * * *
Ambience: * * *
Babe Count: * * *
Yet another date. It's Easter Friday, and as M arrives at my table, offensive things are being done to one of the world's greatest martyrs. I must say, the stuff that was done to him is just a wee bit too extreme for my tastes. I'm into light BDSM. But who am I to judge?
M orders a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich on brown. I order the "Tsunami Chicken Burger". M and I chat about internet dating, and the different experience women have to men.
"Men seem to have VERY little email traffic," I tell her. "We have to work realllllly hard for every bit of attention we get. Women, on the other hand, seem to be flooooooded with responses."
I say, "Have you noticed that the men who respond to your profile really seem to disregard EVERYTHING you've said?"
"I've had ALL SORTS responding to me," she says. "And I'm very specific."
That's cool, cos I've made the cut. Hehehehe. Thanks M. I continue: "See, if you're female, the guys just take this shotgun approach. I reckon they figure if they email a hundred girls, at least one of them will want to be with them."
The food arrives. I look at my tsunami chicken burger skeptically. As the waiter walks away, I call him back. "I'd like to complain about this," I say.
"Sorry sir," he says, eyeing the burger with alarm.
"It says it's the "tsunami" burger. I just want to know," I say, pointing to the plate, "where are all the shattered beach houses and dead bodies and broken surfboards?"
He's aghast for three seconds, looking at the plate. Then he catches, and laughs so loudly that three other customers smile at him as he walks away, shaking his head.