Chu-hai (alcopop, basically wine coolers) floats. Two bucks worth of wine cooler, 15 cents worth of ice cream, $12 on the table.
Could work for some people, but you're going to have to throw in a cookie accompaniment or something for those of us who don't consider a beverage a dessert. See, here's the thing about beverages in restaurants. It's no big deal for a guy. But think of all the stuff women have to undo, then redo in the small space of the ladies' room if we're dressed to the nines. If we've chosen the wrong outfit, it's practically like getting dressed all over again. And God forbid we wore Spanx that night. Tagging @Homer Potvin on this since he's all beverage happy. ETA: And now you guys know why most of the time, our end of meal beverages are often left unfinished after a few sips.
Huh? I'm a gay guy, and I guess, because I don't go out with women, there are big gaps in my knowledge. Why do you have to undo and redo stuff in the ladies' room? And, up until one minute ago, I thought Spanx was a brand of shoes. So I ask again: huh? I mean, wha...?
Shaping up ta be some takeout again, yup, that's sum good eatin right thurr. Or I may just eat french fries from Checkers. Yum.
Last night, I replaced the grill on the old barbecue and got the propane tank refilled. Inaugural roast potatoes and sausages were successfully made!
Carly's got it. Especially the part about the skirt. All in a tiny little bathroom stall while wobbling on heels on a slick tile floor. because we're sure as hell not taking them off in the bathroom! (At home, we're not wearing heels when we're getting into all this stuff at the beginning of the night. Heels go on last.) Yeah, I limit my beverages.
Looks good to me. I've got no beef with desserts, just the infrastructure, turn time, and gastrointestinal real estate issues that come with them. Really? Don't think I've seen that before.
Sounds like a strong argument for stockings Incidentally men have similar trauma too- notably can I survive using the urinal without pissing down my leg (or the leg of the guy next to me), or shall I wait for the one cubicle to open up. Tall men can resolve the dilemma by pissing in the sink instead but other patrons may not be happy with that solution. On no account should you get so drunk that you mistake the Dyson Airblade for a urinal
I tend to forget this, Mrs. A is (sometimes distressingly) low-maintenance and casual. The last time she wore a skirt or dress was... huh, don't remember, but I do remember she complained that she felt like she'd forgotten her pants or something. Yes.
Imagine coming home hungry, smelling the unbelievable sent of cooking, running into the kitchen and lifting up the pot lid to find...broth. I'd probably cry. Probably. Most likely I'd crack a joke about going on a liquid diet then ordering some takeout.
You've just given me the best idea for a meal! I'll swing by the fish market over here and pick up some shrimp and attempt to make Shrimp Tempura! Thanks Carly, takeout begone! I still ate french fries though. Checkers reallly knows how to make em.
The trick for me is to not change into my fuzzy pants until I have dinner in hand. Once the fuzzy pants go on I'm not leaving for love or money.
They're essentially super-tight spandex bike shorts that, depending on the purpose and the woman wearing them, flatten the tummy, have padding or lifting stitching in back to give the impression of a better ass, make the clothing hang better, make the person look up to a clothing size smaller, or eliminate panty lines under white clothing. There are many different styles of spanx for many different purposes, and even super skinny chicks wear them to flatten their stomachs under clingy dresses. However, they're a functional clothing item, but not a sexy one. So there's a whole different kind of maneuvering that occurs if the date continues after leaving the restaurant, so to speak: "Excuse me while I slip into something more comfortable"? Not really. More like getting out of something extremely uncomfortable, and hoping your date is into you enough that he doesn't notice you look different when you return!
I tend to go either cheese and crackers or four-course madness. Mrs. A gets cranky sometimes when my salads involve the food processor, deep fat frier, monster mortar and pestle, five plates, three sets of knives.... So I do the messy stuff when she's out.
Pan fried veal milanese topped with arugula salad and shaved parmesan. Broccoli di rabe and capelinni alio on the side with a bottle of chianti... I'm full. Averna amaro to wash it all down. Being Italian is good.
The first time I wore full bra-to-thigh spanx out to a fancy dinner with Mr. Kelly, I took them off halfway through dinner and stuffed them in my purse*. The constriction was making me fear that my dinner was about to be squeezed out of me! I have since traded out for loose dresses with softer bike shorts underneath. *ETA that I did so in the bathroom, not right at the table as my sentence may originally suggest.
The obi belt that goes with Japanese kimono is very difficult to tie, and can only be loosened by untying and retying it. As a result, many Japanese women who have to wear kimono to formal events that involve eating and drinking will tie an inflated balloon (just a kids' party balloon, nothing special) under their obi, and when they start to feel constricted, discreetly pop it with a straight pin, giving them more room for food.
Well, it's muffled under several layers of silk, and she could excuse herself to the little geishas' room. Fun fact, a little geisha is a maiko. Maiko wear distinctive white makeup similar to that of geisha. Due to his vitiligo/skin whitening regime (you all know where the Debate Room is), Michael Jackson was occasionally nicknamed "Maiko" Jackson prior to his demise.
