Stigmatized
May. 23rd, 2009 11:15 pmTonight I went on a date with the woman I live with, which has the benefit that I don't have to try and impress her. Or something
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porcelain72 and I first met in person on the Saturday before Memorial Day 2004, so we go to Outback that Saturday every year (except 2008, of course) to comemmorate. She had the chicken and I had a salad. Ok, not really. We forewent the signature appetizer because it serves thrice our dyad. In fact, it wsn't even listed on my menu because I was initially handed the gluten-free menu, and almost none of the appetizers are. In the end (and with the proper menu) she had steak with blue cheese and I in a teriyaki marinade.
Afterwards, we walked over to Madison Square Park, where we sat for a bit, and then to Fish's Eddy, which I hadn't realized was so inexpensive—though I suspect they're in the middle of a sale, giving an erroneous impression of their price point. At any rate, between us we want basically everything in the store.
After that we wanted dessert, and so went to a place by Union Square. The party of three that went in behind us & was seated next to us was quite striking: a very very large man who Gena said sounded like Buffalo Bill, a common or garden hipster dude, and Jesus. Seriously: slight, long hair, scraggly beard, even a robe. Relying on that endorsement, we stayed, and, I developed stigmata, or at least a stigma: the lock in the men's room wedged, and to get out I had to push hard with the heel of my hand, which opent the lock by also opened my hand. The restaurant very kindly supplied a Band-Aid—and comped our meal, presumably on the understanding that I won't sue or say nasty things about them on Yelp.
The trains were rerouted, so we walked off some of our free cake getting someplace from which we could get home.
porcelain72 and I first met in person on the Saturday before Memorial Day 2004, so we go to Outback that Saturday every year (except 2008, of course) to comemmorate. She had the chicken and I had a salad. Ok, not really. We forewent the signature appetizer because it serves thrice our dyad. In fact, it wsn't even listed on my menu because I was initially handed the gluten-free menu, and almost none of the appetizers are. In the end (and with the proper menu) she had steak with blue cheese and I in a teriyaki marinade.Afterwards, we walked over to Madison Square Park, where we sat for a bit, and then to Fish's Eddy, which I hadn't realized was so inexpensive—though I suspect they're in the middle of a sale, giving an erroneous impression of their price point. At any rate, between us we want basically everything in the store.
After that we wanted dessert, and so went to a place by Union Square. The party of three that went in behind us & was seated next to us was quite striking: a very very large man who Gena said sounded like Buffalo Bill, a common or garden hipster dude, and Jesus. Seriously: slight, long hair, scraggly beard, even a robe. Relying on that endorsement, we stayed, and, I developed stigmata, or at least a stigma: the lock in the men's room wedged, and to get out I had to push hard with the heel of my hand, which opent the lock by also opened my hand. The restaurant very kindly supplied a Band-Aid—and comped our meal, presumably on the understanding that I won't sue or say nasty things about them on Yelp.
The trains were rerouted, so we walked off some of our free cake getting someplace from which we could get home.
