fusion99
Well-known member
It's only been a week since I dumped my girlfriend, but I am quickly getting back on my feet. Yesterday, I had a lunch date that I set with a cute little chick, whom I met at the gym on Wednesday. I agreed to take her out to lunch, my treat.
All was going well. I picked her up from her apartment complex and we had some good conversation on the way to the restaurant. She didn't even mind me stopping off at the P.O. to ship out a package real quick. Seemed pretty easygoing.
We arrive at Red Lobster, which is her favorite restaurant, and I'm already planning out our future f**k sessions in my mind, as I eye her ample bust and rear (accentuated by a very slim waist, score!).
The waiter arrives and we order our drinks. I have a coke and she has a margarita - the most expensive one. At this point I'm like "no big deal, maybe the booze will get her going and we can f**k sometime today!" The waiter disappears for awhile and more small talk ensues. She's funny and says something interesting semi-regularly, but does whine a bit.
Our waiter comes back with the drinks and asks if we're ready to order. Being a gentleman, I ask the lady what she would like, to which she replies "I would like an appetizer, the quesadilla's, a bowl of clam chowder and, for lunch, the New England platter." Now, we are out for "lunch" mind you. Lunch. I try to hide my concern while ordering my Aztec Chicken. Then she drives another nail into the coffin.
"Oh, and bring me another Margarita when this one's empty, and a coke when you get the chance."
WTF?!??
As she finishes her first margarita, more and more drama, complaints and gossip come flying out of her mouth - replacing anything interesting or funny she had been saying up until now.
I sit through her drinks, appetizer, soup and increasingly insipid conversation before our meals hit the table. We finally get our meals and as I'm digging into my Aztec Chicken, it happens.
"Tee hee! Could I get a box for this?"
At this point in the game, I'm ready to pop. I offered to take this girl out to lunch, not buy her her 2000 calories for the day and takeout lunch for tommorow.
With margarita #2 down she has become incredibly annoying to converse with. All semblance of normal, worthwhile conversation went where those margaritas will end up once they've travelled through this skanktron's digestive system.
The dreaded bill finally arrives. The damage is extensive. My end of the bill, $10.53. Her end, $35.32.
To say that I felt taken advantage of would be an understatement. Call me overly polite, but when someone offers to take me out to lunch, I try to keep the costs minimal - a simple drink, meal sized appropriate for the time of day and, maybe, a split appetizer.
I have one last shot at making this worthwhile.
"I've had a great time with you. Perhaps you'd like to go to your place and spend some more time together, talking and getting to know each other," I say with the sincerest expression of interest and kindness that I can muster.
She replies, "I have to pick up my ex-boyfriend from the court house in an hour. His mother dropped him off, but I'm his only ride back."
Game over.
I exchange a few more bits of small talk, sneak $15 under the bill when she's not paying attention, excuse myself to the restroom and walk the f**k out as nonchalantly as possible. No one notices. My getaway is complete, both literally and figuratively.
All was going well. I picked her up from her apartment complex and we had some good conversation on the way to the restaurant. She didn't even mind me stopping off at the P.O. to ship out a package real quick. Seemed pretty easygoing.
We arrive at Red Lobster, which is her favorite restaurant, and I'm already planning out our future f**k sessions in my mind, as I eye her ample bust and rear (accentuated by a very slim waist, score!).
The waiter arrives and we order our drinks. I have a coke and she has a margarita - the most expensive one. At this point I'm like "no big deal, maybe the booze will get her going and we can f**k sometime today!" The waiter disappears for awhile and more small talk ensues. She's funny and says something interesting semi-regularly, but does whine a bit.
Our waiter comes back with the drinks and asks if we're ready to order. Being a gentleman, I ask the lady what she would like, to which she replies "I would like an appetizer, the quesadilla's, a bowl of clam chowder and, for lunch, the New England platter." Now, we are out for "lunch" mind you. Lunch. I try to hide my concern while ordering my Aztec Chicken. Then she drives another nail into the coffin.
"Oh, and bring me another Margarita when this one's empty, and a coke when you get the chance."
WTF?!??
As she finishes her first margarita, more and more drama, complaints and gossip come flying out of her mouth - replacing anything interesting or funny she had been saying up until now.
I sit through her drinks, appetizer, soup and increasingly insipid conversation before our meals hit the table. We finally get our meals and as I'm digging into my Aztec Chicken, it happens.
"Tee hee! Could I get a box for this?"
At this point in the game, I'm ready to pop. I offered to take this girl out to lunch, not buy her her 2000 calories for the day and takeout lunch for tommorow.
With margarita #2 down she has become incredibly annoying to converse with. All semblance of normal, worthwhile conversation went where those margaritas will end up once they've travelled through this skanktron's digestive system.
The dreaded bill finally arrives. The damage is extensive. My end of the bill, $10.53. Her end, $35.32.
To say that I felt taken advantage of would be an understatement. Call me overly polite, but when someone offers to take me out to lunch, I try to keep the costs minimal - a simple drink, meal sized appropriate for the time of day and, maybe, a split appetizer.
I have one last shot at making this worthwhile.
"I've had a great time with you. Perhaps you'd like to go to your place and spend some more time together, talking and getting to know each other," I say with the sincerest expression of interest and kindness that I can muster.
She replies, "I have to pick up my ex-boyfriend from the court house in an hour. His mother dropped him off, but I'm his only ride back."
Game over.
I exchange a few more bits of small talk, sneak $15 under the bill when she's not paying attention, excuse myself to the restroom and walk the f**k out as nonchalantly as possible. No one notices. My getaway is complete, both literally and figuratively.