- Joined
- May 23, 2007
- Messages
- 1,067
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So, I take a girl I met through an acquaintance out on a date. I thought, “Morton’s, this is going to be classy!” She orders an old fashioned, and I’m like, “Wow, she knows her drinks! Maybe she’s secretly a bartender and just wanted to see if I could keep up.” But then, it comes time to order the main course, and she goes for a steak well done. I’m thinking, “Okay, maybe she’s just really into sunbathing her food.”
The steak arrives, and it looks like it had a little too much fun on the grill. But she sends it back, saying it wasn’t cooked enough. I’m like, “Did you just order a steak that could double as a hockey puck?” She keeps sending it back two more times! I’m starting to wonder if she had a secret bet with the kitchen staff to see how many times she could get a steak that could be used as a frisbee. By the end of the night, I’m just hoping she doesn’t start asking for a steak that could be used as a trampoline! I shit you not the meat looked like this:
And if this wasn’t bad enough, she ate this with those individual mustard and mayonnaise packets that she brought in, like she was auditioning for a role in a condiment commercial. “Now, watch closely as I perform the delicate art of packet fusion!” she declared, squeezing them together with the precision of a surgeon. Meanwhile, I’m sitting there so embarrassed!
The steak arrives, and it looks like it had a little too much fun on the grill. But she sends it back, saying it wasn’t cooked enough. I’m like, “Did you just order a steak that could double as a hockey puck?” She keeps sending it back two more times! I’m starting to wonder if she had a secret bet with the kitchen staff to see how many times she could get a steak that could be used as a frisbee. By the end of the night, I’m just hoping she doesn’t start asking for a steak that could be used as a trampoline! I shit you not the meat looked like this:

And if this wasn’t bad enough, she ate this with those individual mustard and mayonnaise packets that she brought in, like she was auditioning for a role in a condiment commercial. “Now, watch closely as I perform the delicate art of packet fusion!” she declared, squeezing them together with the precision of a surgeon. Meanwhile, I’m sitting there so embarrassed!