So I recently had a first date with a guy we’ll call Rib Guy. He’s really a sweet guy and we’ve had amazing (email and phone) conversation over the past few months. He’s educated and tall, has goals and a pretty smile and about a week ago on a Friday, he rang my doorbell, picked me up and took me to Rick’s Chophouse in downtown McKinney.
Let’s scroll back a few months. February of ’09, at Salt Grass Steakhouse during a J-O-B luncheon, was the first time I’ve EVER had an actual filet steak. I guess my hold-up has always been the fact that I am NOT a fan of seeing blood run out…and also because of the regular gristle I usually have to spit out in my napkin.
Don’t worry, I didn’t spit out steak in my napkin. I didn’t even order a steak. No, instead, my dumb. ass. orders ribs on a first-freakin’-date! And I’m not just talking about a small plate of ribs, the guy brought out a plate the size of my upper body and winked when he put the plate down.
See this is what I was thinking as I looked at the menu:
- Hell no to the calamari. [shivers]
- Can’t kiss anyone (if he expects it/or there’s a spark by the end of the night) if I eat the fish. Gross!
- Can’t get the crabcakes…because apparently there’s a dead crawfish with eyes staring at me sitting on top of the crabcakes. Um creepy!
- Can’t get an easy appetizer…this is no Chilis!
- No salad…because I don’t want lettuce hanging in and out of my teeth!
- Couldn’t get the Filet “Carpetbagger” – because, heck…I don’t even know what the hell a filet “carpetbagger” is.
So I get the ribs. In the back of my mind, I’m thinking of my mom’s dainty, but yummy ribs where the meat falls right off the bone. Not an actual rib cage.
After the “garcon” dropped off the food and the little plate with a linen cloth and a lemon, the waiter came back and asked how everything was. I told him “big” and he laughed and so did my date.
Here comes the “other” hang-up. I’m staring at this linen cloth and the lemon. I have been to nice restaurants and I’ve even taken plenty of etiquette classes (per my mother), but I guess because I’m not a steak-eating-type-of-gal, I’ve never learned what to do with a cloth and lemon duo.
So in the back of mind, I know that licking your fingers is not the most cooth thing to do, so I lick my fingers “sort of” and then use my napkin and after two ribs, I give up, mostly because of embarrassment. I mean…he’s a regular steak-eating-kind-of-guy…I didn’t want him to think I’d been raised by wolves. He kind of looked at me like “really?” but said he understood. I mean…it really was A LOT of food. I hardly ever eat that much.
So as my food gets packed up in a to-go dish, we’re still having great conversation and laughing and talking. But by the end of the night when he’s dropping me off, is when the date just got weird.
So he pulls up to my house and gets ready like he’s opening up his side of the door to get out and walk me to my door. But he just sat there. He turned off the music and started in on the whole “I had fun, we need to do it again, blah blah blah”. But he never once acted like he was going to get out of the car. I was so confused. So not knowing if he wants to talk more or what he’s expecting, etc, I pull the latch on my side and open my door and with one of my legs already out the door, I see him close his door.
Was I supposed to wait and let him walk me to my door? I mean it would have been nice? Was he confused as to whether or not we were supposed to hug or kiss, etc? Because I sure was. I had a great time, I thought we had great chemistry, but the end of the night was just weird.
But can you tell? This blog goes to show that not only do men not know how to date, but women as well. Yes…me. I’m guilty of not knowing what to order, what everything means, how to use a linen cloth and lemon when cleaning your hands, not knowing whether I should wait to be walked to my door or not. Dating needs to come with a friggin’ manual.
Anyways…lesson whatever-number-this-is: Never order ribs on a first date. Hell…just skip dinner until the third or fourth date and if you do go to dinner, stick with the chicken!