Service: * * *
Food: * * *
Ambience: * * *
Babe Count: * * *<\/i> <\/p>\n
Yet another date. It’s Easter Friday, and as M arrives at my table, offensive things are being done to one of the world’s greatest martyrs. I must say, the stuff that was done to him is just a wee bit too extreme for my tastes. I’m into light BDSM. But who am I to judge?<\/p>\n
M orders a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich on brown. I order the “Tsunami Chicken Burger”. M and I chat about internet dating, and the different experience women have to men.<\/p>\n
“Men seem to have VERY little email traffic,” I tell her. “We have to work realllllly hard for every bit of attention we get. Women, on the other hand, seem to be flooooooded with responses.”<\/p>\n
She agrees.<\/p>\n
I say, “Have you noticed that the men who respond to your profile really seem to disregard EVERYTHING you’ve said?”<\/p>\n
“I’ve had ALL SORTS responding to me,” she says. “And I’m very specific.”<\/p>\n
That’s cool, cos I’ve made the cut. Hehehehe. Thanks M. I continue: “See, if you’re female, the guys just take this shotgun approach. I reckon they figure if they email a hundred girls, at least one of them will want to be with them.”<\/p>\n
The food arrives. I look at my tsunami chicken burger skeptically. As the waiter walks away, I call him back. “I’d like to complain about this,” I say.<\/p>\n
“Sorry sir,” he says, eyeing the burger with alarm.<\/p>\n
“It says it’s the “tsunami” burger. I just want to know,” I say, pointing to the plate, “where are all the shattered beach houses and dead bodies and broken surfboards?”<\/p>\n
He’s aghast for three seconds, looking at the plate. Then he catches, and laughs so loudly that three other customers smile at him as he walks away, shaking his head.<\/p>\n