Me: Why are we at Olive Garden? This place is not even that good.
Date: Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear anything. There are too many large numbered families having Sunday dinner here tonight.
Me: What? I can’t hear you. The waiters here are naming all the soups of the day too loudly. They’ve been naming them for ten minutes. There can’t possibly be that many types of soup.
Date: What? Could you speak a little louder? There’s a ringing in my ears.
Waiter: Hello! Sorry for the wait, Sunday nights are always the busiest. How can I start you off tonight?
Date: What? What was that? What? I still can’t hear anything over the sound of familial laughter. Are you guys sweating too? It’s so hot.
Me: [Starts applying expensive chap stick silently]
Waiter: Would you like to hear the soups of the day?
New Yorker seated in the booth behind us: [Peeks over the half wall and casually shouts] No, but I can give you directions to a real Italian restaurant!
Me: [Looks into the camera like in The Office]
Waiter: [Looks into the camera like in The Office]
Family party of 17 seated next to us: [Looks into the camera like in The Office]
Date: [Screams in terror because he suddenly realizes he was the one who died in the car accident last night - not his sister, and now he is in hell for eternity as punishment for the sins he committed in his short, mortal life]
(via heterokatedison)












