Burn Baby, Burn!

I would be lying if I said that this upcoming group date was something I was excited about. Or even looking forward to…but the truth of the matter was…I SO was not! In fact, I was in absolute trepidation about having to face another pointless dinner. Another futile conversation that would ultimately lead to me having to ‘entertain the masses’ while my date sat there, trying to wrap his head around the Ge-isim’s that were bound to be in great abundance because, well, that’s just what I do. But, as per-usual, I decided to suck it up, take one for the team, and appease the crowds by consenting to grace them with my presence.

He chose a local restaurant that was known for serving a massive assortment of diverse kinds of meat. As he arrived to pick me up he asked if that’s something I was okay with, to which I felt the need to kindly remind him that my eating meat was not only part of my culture, but that if we wanted to, for our second date we could go to the local ‘Genealogy Library’ and trace back to the days-of-yore, where I’m sure at some point my ancestors’ had eaten his.

Upon arrival we met up with 2 other couples who seemed nice enough, by Utah County standards anyway. Definitely a tad bit Zoobie-ish, with the girls in dresses that reminded me a little of the latest episode of ‘Sister Wives’ and the guys clothed in outfits that looked as though they had been transported unequivocally from Brigham Young’s era. My date was quick to introduce me and as the night lingered on, the humdrum conversation was run-of-the-mill, but I was determined to apply the wealth of knowledge that had come from all of the self-help books I had recently begun reading, and try to continue to stay in jovial high spirit’s.

As the evening wore on, one of the waiters stopped by our table so that we could take a look at the meat he was offering…(not like I hadn’t already had that same offer several times that week, but whatev! T.W.S.S.) And after all of the oohh-ing, ahh-ing and salivating over it, I unexpectedly felt my self gasp for breath as I felt something exceedingly scorching begin running down my leg. To my total bewilderment I realized that our waiter had dropped some of the meat juice and there it was…an instantly formed, second degree burn blister, marking my battle wounds. I knew immediately that I was in a state of shock because for the first time in my life I was incapable of forming words. There I sat, not quite sure what to do next, while Mr. Apathetic McCould-Care-Less sat with a look of ultra unmitigated and complete indifference. As I opened my mouth to verbalize the amount of sheer agony I was feeling, my date quickly turned to me and while putting his index finger to his over sized lips said, “Ssshhhhhhhh! Don’t make this into a big deal.” And after pausing a brief moment resumed his undatable comment with, “Well, unless of course you think you can get your meal comp’ed…in which case, do what you have to do.”

If your date is more concerned about saving money, then he is about your personal safety and welfare…

UNDATABLE!