Sean and I had the chance to go out to dinner Tuesday night sans small people. (Thanks for babysitting Mom.) Again, we had some funny conversations I’d thought I’d share. (Perhaps we need more date nights. Hmm.)
We went to Island’s for dinner. If you don’t have one, it’s a hamburger place with juicy, fatty hamburgers, fries drenched in melted cheese, and Kona pie (coffee ice cream pie, Oreo crust, topped with mounds of whipped cream, almonds, and chocolate sauce). So good. I try to eat healthy mostly, but sometimes, you just need a good burger and fries (and about 300o calories, but they don’t count on date night.)
The Waiter Situation
Our waiter was, well, a little odd. It’s unusual to have a socially awkward waiter, but he was. He was in his early twenties,clean cut, and a little pudgy, but not too bad. Island’s is casual and most of the staff wears shorts. Our guy was in khakis pulled up and belted well above his natural waist. You could almost see the line left by his fanny pack that he surely wears when he’s not working. He took our order, then kind of stood there, like he was expecting us to excuse him, before muttering, “Thanks.” and scurrying away. He scurried. All over. He was strange.
Sean: Remind me to get a comment card on our way out.
Sean: Because Homeboy’s creepy.
The Meat Situation
As I’ve mentioned before umpteen times, we’ve been eating vegetarian five days a week. (Clearly, yesterday was a meat day.) It’s amazing how quickly your body adapts and kind of likes not so much meat. When we do eat it now, it kind of doesn’t taste that good and is really too heavy.
Sean: (After eating his fries and most of his burger.) I’m sleepy.
Me: A little postprandial stupor. It’s all that meat and fat. All the blood is in your stomach trying to figure out how to handle it.
Sean: I do have a headache. I think Homeboy roofied me.
Me: (laughing) I’ll have to drive home or you’ll get pulled over for driving like a drunk. It’d be a D.U.H., driving under hamburger-influence.
I laughed a lot more at that point. The meat had me intoxicated as well.
(Sean was channeling his inner gangsta’ last night with his verbage. I don’t know why. Perhaps the meat.)
The Man Boob Situation
This has nothing to do with Sean or I, but I did observe it while we were dining, and I thought it was funny.
Out the window, I saw this guy strutting across the street. He was going caddy corner across six lanes and not at an intersection of any kind. That’s why I noticed. As he got closer, I could see he was a muscle-y guy in black sweat pants and a low cut, wife beater t-shirt. He got right in front of us and appeared confused because there was a low hedge between him and the sidewalk. He looked like the kind of guy who would jump it. I was surprised when instead he looked down, noticed he was having a little wardrobe malfunction, and hoisted up his tee with his pinkies, thereby covering up his man boobs. Then he kind of tripped a little and continued to walk down the street. Apparently in search of some kind of entrance onto the sidewalk. Lesson learned: When jaywalking, make sure you are either down with jumping over a hedge, or that there is a place to get on the sidewalk. Otherwise, you lose your tough man appearance.
And, since Sean felt the need to add to the story in the comments to try to embarrass me, I’ll save him the trouble.
The Dessert Situation
We were eating our Kona pie. (Recall, coffee ice cream, Oreo crust, mounds of whipped cream, almonds, chocolate sauce.) And our waiter, Homeboy, had given us a particularly large amount of whipped cream (the real kind, my favorite). As we were finishing, a lot of the cream had melted and I was trying to shovel it in my pie hole with a fork. As it was all melty, it wasn’t working so well.
Me: (slurping noises)
Sean: Let’s get Homeboy to get you a spoon. Why don’t you just use your straw?
Me: (considering the possibility and if that really seemed too disgusting) Fine. (putting my fork down, but still longingly looking at the mess of the whipped cream.)
Sorry, I couldn’t figure out how to draw this one.