These were the events that eventually led us into The Worst Date Ever.
We got sat in a booth behind an older couple in their early 50s. It didn't take much ease-dropping to figure out that this was their first date, as he was asking her twenty questions about what she liked and didn't like. Valuable information such as, not to drink the water in Mexico, foot rubs are good sleep inducers, and how he got his middle name, were also thrown out on the table by this idiotic man. Unfortunately for my boyfriend, I was all ears on the table behind us and could barely finish my dinner in an effort to catch every blunder this man was making. He asked if it was okay to clean his ears and continued to do so. He told her he has been used in the past: used by getting late night calls from women who could not fall asleep. He said he's whispered his old tax returns word for word into his willing victims ears on the other line until they were snoring fast asleep. How romantic.
At this point I'm asking my boyfriend why he's never offered to do that.
As dinner is winding down, his date asks the server for a take out box, and I'm vaguely disappointed my trip as their secret third wheel is ending. The man warns his date that she better not take home her food and scarf it down because she was trying to be dainty and feminine in front of him. He also suggests that if she finishes it now maybe they can go get a nice, little ice cream cone.
We get pay our check and leave before the lady has time to file a restraining order.
