7/06/2014

Dinners of Future Past

Story Sent in by Kristen:

Not long after we sat down to dinner, Erik handed me a sealed envelope. He told me not to open it until after we ordered. I was intrigued, and we had a good chat.

Things went south when the waitress took our orders. Erik asked for the chicken piccata and I ordered the mussels and linguini.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Erik cut in.

I assured him it was, and he said, "Really?"

I asked him, "Why? Is it bad here or something?"

He shrugged and said, "No. Do what you want."

I did, and the mussels were ordered. I then opened his envelope. Inside was a handwritten note saying that I would order the veal parmigiana. I laughed and told him that his prediction skills could use work.

He then said, "I predict that you'll be eating alone, tonight," and he left without another word.

I called a local friend and asked him if he wanted to join me for an impromptu chicken piccata dinner. He swung by, the waitress delivered the food to the table, and we had a good time. I then predicted that Erik would never contact me again. So between the two of us, I was actually better at prognosticating than he was.

1 comment:

  1. I think eric really wanted the veal thing so that he can eat it but it too expensive for his budget so he figured if op got it, it would save him lots of money.

    ReplyDelete

Content Policy

A Bad Case of the Dates reserves the right to publish or not publish any submitted content at any time, and by submitting content to A Bad Case of the Dates, you retain original copyright, but are granting us the right to post, edit, and/or republish your content forever and in any media throughout the universe. If Zeta Reticulans come down from their home planet to harvest bad dating stories, you could become an intergalactic megastar. Go you!

A Bad Case of the Dates is not responsible for user comments. We also reserve the right to delete any comments at any time and for any reason. We're hoping to not have to, though.

Aching to reach us? abadcaseofthedates at gmail dot com.