The Dinner Debacle (New Year's Evening)

The boy I was meeting for dinner, former model and current resident of one of Carlsbad's premiere neighborhoods did not want to eat at a chain.

He arrived, looking taller than his picture. And, now that I think of it, older. Not that I was disappointed. I was actually prepared to be disappointed because that's how these things usually go.

We had spend a goodly portion of Xmas week chatting on the phone, one night until 1:15. I was dragging the next day, lemme tell you . So if nothing else, I knew he was at least, okay to talk to.

I had worried he would find me too fat, but he seemed to like me and that was good.

The restaurant was dark. So dark that I could barely read my menu. But of course, the food was not entirely consequential, until, of course, it was.

The waiter, a bald middle eastern man arrived swiftly to place the napkins on our lap. I placed mine first while he was unfurling H's. Then, I thought, well, let's get an app. Because then I won't have to choose an entree right away. So I ordered what the waiter rec'd. It was steak on bruschetta. With, what I imagine to be goat cheese. I hate goat cheese. Actually, the tomatoes were soggy, so I scraped everything off onto the place and ate first the meat, then the toast, then, last, those awful tomatoes. It was edible. Not great. But of course, when one is on a date, it's not good to complain. So I bore it. Like I said: edible.

I decided to get the filet mignon, because as you well know, I do love filet! Well, it arrived and looked very nice, and then I cut into it. Hmm. Salty. Another bite: okay a little better and then whoa! This awful liver taste enveloped my mouth. This filet TASTED LIKE LIVER!!!

"Is it okay?" H asked from across the table.
"Well, actually, no," I said, bursting into tears.
"What's wrong?"
"It tastes like liver!" I howled.
"No, it couldn't be," he cut himself a slice, chewed and then said, "by gum, Hilda! It does!"
At which point I was very upset.
The waiter came over and took the offending dish away. "Ravioli, try the ravioli," he said.
So, a few minutes later, he arrived with what I assume was mushroom ravioli. It was like the app, edible. Not great.
I was very unhappy.
When the waiter returned to see if we wanted dessert, I said, "I don't think we'd better risk it."
H concurred and ordered a coffee.

Quite possibly, this was the most disappointing restaurant I've eaten at all year. But wait. It's the only restaurant I've eaten at all year! Oh! What a bad miserable omen!

I leave you, sad and dejected,

Hilda Stinson