Dating can bring out the best in us, and the worst! While this guy was able to show his best side of being polite in order to win the girl, the girl may not have shown her best side in the kitchen.
“Shortly after (a few days) I started dating my wife, she invited me over to her place for dinner. Pork roast, baked potatoes, green beans, etc. Needless to say, I was looking forward to it for many reasons, not the least of which was that I somehow was dating a beautiful woman who also apparently could cook.
I show up at the scheduled time after getting out of work and sit down at the table with a glass of Jack and Coke while she whizzes around the kitchen wrapping things up.
She comes trotting out with our plates happy/proud as could be and serves dinner. I took one look, and I knew I was doomed (as I had worked in a few restaurants up to this point and grew up in a family of cooks) but figured I could man my way through it.
The beans and baked potato were fine. The pork roast, however, was not. It was like eating a hockey puck that had taken a trip through the pits of the underworld. I casually asked for the salt and ketchup, claiming that I like my pork roast with those, and went to town. About 30 minutes later, I had a gut full of leather and veggies. I was thanking Zeus I was able to get through it after kindly turning down seconds due to a ‘late lunch at work’.
Fast-forward a few months, and we were having a grill out. I am assembling my burger and my girlfriend passes me the ketchup which I (without even thinking) decline because I do NOT like ketchup on anything. The table goes silent, a cold wind blows through the air and it dawns on me… I just completely blew my freaking cover.
Needless to say, the next few minutes were not pleasant. Fortunately for me, her dad came to my rescue and said, ‘Darling, I saw the pork roast you made and I wouldn’t have fed it to my dog let alone another person and this guy ate every bit you gave him. Either he was really desperate or he REALLY loves you, so you need to keep that in mind before you rip him in half over the ketchup snafu.’
Here we are now almost nine years later and every once in a while at dinner, I’ll ask her to pass me the ketchup… if I want to be ignored for the rest of the night.”
