something bout the way you do the things you do

in the car on the way home i told myself, penyelamat dunia, never ever even begin to ideate stepping foot in that place again without your girlfriend.

i am a dude, i would break into a drought-relieving amount of sweat if i had to purchase something, especially when i have to choose, even if there was only one choice.

here i was in this restaurant. as it relates so much to choice, i have never been good with menus, i always end up with something the opposite of what i like by my own foolish doing. you have to forgive me, how do you read and begin to understand these things, there are these terms, these technical technical terms, like butter, garlic, mushrooms and what have yous.

i am but a regular guy, there is only one ingredient i am familiar with that comes from the kitchen - food.

in a proper restaurant with so many choices on pages upon pages of... hardened paper?, i am like a woman trying to figure out the right specifications for her future new cpu. yes, exactly. i am flipping back and forth forth and back, this is exactly like me trying to read a book and eventually giving up before finishing the foreword, except right now i am hungry, and the solution lies within this book i am holding on with sheer cluelessness to.

i actually had an agenda. a few months ago me and my cutie went here. the waiter gave some bread as starters and my gf taught me to eat with the two liquid whatever they were on the table. i really liked that and i wanted to taste it again.

don't make that face, i assure you i did not fuck that up. what kinda screwup would i be to fail at getting something that the staff would only stop short of force feeding me. that was nice. the other thing was what my gf ordered. i wanted to taste that again too. now achieving that alone, is the struggle.

my gf was not in the country but i did have my phone with me and i could easily sms or phone her to ask what it was. but there was pressure. i had spent about five minutes just reading everything on the menu trying to figure out what it was and by the time my genius mind finally came up with the idea of basic telecommunications one of the waiters was already standing nearby as if waiting impatiently for my set of command.

of course he wasn't, he was probably just there waiting for an empty glass of ice lemon tea to jollyly refill. and even if he was, who gives a fuck, i am a customer, i can browse the menu as long as i want. but i can't, because i am not normal. and how do you expect me to be calm and collected and to make the right decision, there is an imaginary waiter hissing and clicking his tongue with all the impatience of a traffic jam attendee.

so i made the wrong decision to just follow my gut and point at my (wrong) choice. and i had to finish it. driving home with a glutted belly but unfulfilled taste buds.

all i could imagine as i made the turn to go right back home was the grace of a woman's delicate fingers turning the pages only to browse as she had already made up her mind, her big funky eyes glowing at the ingredients fine written below the fancy names. all alien to me, as alien as aliens.

women don't even need to know what they want, it's their method when being approached with the idea of choice. it's their ability to block out everything and everyone but their mind and modus operandi when dealing with options. when they are looking, and formulating countless separate opinions they are almost floating and gliding from one to the next, back to the one, and then the other. what a sight. so baby, come home quick i miss you.