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Day #154: What Do You Want to Eat Tonight?

The  Story:

“I swear to God, woman! If you don’t make a decision for once in your life I’m going to… I’m going call this whole wedding off!” Bernie slammed his hand on the steering wheel and cut his eyes at his fiancé, Gia, sitting in the passenger seat.  Gia shot Bernie a hurt look and quickly turned to face the window and the lanes of traffic beyond.

You wouldn’t know it by the current conversation, but Bernie and Gia were the couple that everyone wanted to be. Meeting in graduate school, the two instantly felt sparks, he was an energetic idealist with a hankering for good chocolate and she was an introverted artist who could whip up one hell of a chocolate soufflé- they were a perfect match. Now, three years later they were less than two weeks from walking down the aisle and spending the rest of the lives together… maybe. Like many couples, Bernie and Gia had one topic that always seemed to spin into a fight- deciding on dinner. For the majority of their relationship this had been the one thing that always got them in hot water. The conversation would always start innocently enough with one of them, usually Bernie asking:

What do you want to eat?

The response was almost automatic:

I don’t know what do you want?

Things only got worse from there:

How bout Italian?

Nah, I had pizza for lunch.

OK, how about that little Cuban place?

I’m not in the mood, what about Chi Chi’s?

You know I hate that place…

…and round and round it went until someone blew up at the other and they ended up eating buttered noodles at home in silence.

Tonight was turning out no different. After a marathon day spent registering for wedding gifts, Bernie was operating on a very short fuse, and a very empty stomach. To top it off, Gia was being especially unhelpful in the ‘what are we going to eat’ department, eventually pushing him to threaten something he’d never actually do. Quickly apologizing, Bernie pulled into a parking lot to cool off- driving aimlessly without any destination in mind was only further infuriating him. After a few silent moments, Bernie heard his beloved fiancé utter one word, “Lasagna”.

She: "I want a hotdog this long." He: "Just pick a place... wait what?!?"

Snapping to attention, Bernie whipped his head around and saw that Gia was staring right at him, a look of conviction on her face. “You want Lasagna?” Bernie asked almost timidly, afraid that he may spook her from her moment of decisiveness.

“I want Lasagna,” she replied, holding his stare.

“Great! Where can we get lasagna?” Bernie asked, mostly to himself.

“The Olive Garden,” Gia said with resolve.

“We’re there,” Bernie said as if he had just accepted a mission from God. Throwing the car into Drive they squealed out of the parking lot and made a B-line to the nearest Olive Garden. Fifteen minutes and 25 seconds later they were seated in a booth by a window and asking for waters- no lemon.

“I have to tell you, Gia. You making a decision like that, it’s pretty sexy,” Bernie said and playfully nudged her with his foot under the table.

“Oh?” Gia coyly replied, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “Well, I guess I’m just going to have to start being a little more vocal in the future,” she said before flashing the minxy smile Bernie couldn’t resist.

“Seriously though, I can never get you to make a decision on where we should eat. And tonight, I was really getting frustrated. Then when you said that one little word, lasagna, it was… awesome,” Bernie laughed a little at the word awesome, but it was the best word he could think of to describe his jubilation at that moment.

“Well, I felt like lasagna… usually by the time we decide to get something to eat I’m so hungry I can’t think straight, but I’ve been craving lasagna for days so…” gia said, spreading her hands as if to say so here we are.

“Okay, here are your waters, guys. Now, have you decided on what you would like to order or do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu?” their server said as he set their drinks in front of them and readied his pen for the impending order.

“I think we’re ready. Babe, you wanna go first?” Bernie said, motioning to Gia.

“Sure. I’d like the lasagna, please,” Gia said without an iota of anticipation.

Their server bit his lip and made a sucking noise with his teeth before responding, “Ooo… yeah, sorry folks. We’re out of lasagna tonight”.

Except for Lasagna... they're fresh out.


The Not So Fantastic Reality:

The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:

ONE:      Okay, so anyone that’s ever been in a relationship for any amount of time can relate to the age-old ‘argument’ about what to eat. After all, it was the undoing of the first couple Adam and Eve… Eve wanted an apple, Adam wasn’t feeling it, Eve lambasted the poor dude until finally, due to a serious case of grumbly tummy and in a final effort to shut the nag up he ate the damn thing.

Anywho, while Andy and I were out and about this evening, I began to feel a teeny tiny little bit hungry (read: my stomach was eating itself). As we were leaving the last store Andy asked the question, “What are you hungry for?”. The moment of truth. I knew I had several choices to make in answering this seemingly innocent question. I could say, “I don’t know, what are you hungry for?” and get kicked in the shin for it (apparently I have an annoying habit of answering a question with a question, who knew?). I could claim not to be hungry and then hope that I could scrape something to eat together at home (hello buttered noodles!). Or, I could say the first food that popped into my head. “Lasagna!” I almost shouted. We then decided, again due to my prompt, to head to the nearest Olive Garden for the dish of my desire. Relieved that we wouldn’t have to play the “What do you want to eat tonight?” game, we both slid into our respective sides of the booth and waited patiently for the server to arrive.

And guess what? Olive Garden, that’s right the Italian restaurant chain of choice for the comfort-food-seeking middle American masses, was  OUT OF LASAGNA. The horror. The humanity. I was speechless. After finally making a decision about what I wanted to eat down to the very dish I craved (I can be very passive and indecisiveness might as well be my middle name… Samantha Indecisiveness Moya) and wouldn’t you know, they were fresh out. I’m sorry, but can someone tell me how the Olive Garden manages to run out of lasagna at 7:30pm on a Tuesday? For shame. Oh well, I ended up ordering something that was pretty tasty, and it gave me a fun story to write. Yay for silver linings (and chocolate mints with the bill)!

Apparently a tubby orange cat snuck into the Olive Garden kitchen... GARFIELD!!!

Love & Squirrels.



About samshine20

Writing a fictious story based on my day's events... every day. Apparently this is how I celebrate turning 30. That's me! ...just a girl with dream. And a blog.

One response »

  1. good story, bad lasgna anyway


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