Picky Eaters Can Die (Ex: Me)
One of my favorite past times is eating out. I love going to a restaurant, being seated, having a waiter bring me a drink, and relaxing with friends as we chat and look over our menus. And that’s where the problem begins for me. Because, usually, I take a really long time deciding what to eat. I’m such a picky eater it’s almost pathetic. Even if I’ve eaten at the restaurant about 84 times in the past, I always look through the menu front to back at least once. And then I’ll finally decide on two meals, and take some more time deciding which would be better. It’s really cute, actually (no, not really).
Today I spent over ten minutes looking over the menu at this restaurant I love to eat at, Applebee’s, and it was ten minutes too many. My family would look over at me with their hungry eyes and quietly urge me to cut the shit, and I don’t blame them. After questioning my meal choice to see if it was what I really wanted, pondering the possible calories in the meal, and making a pros-and-cons list (mentally, of course), I decided on grilled cheese. Grilled cheese. I’m sorry, what?
Next time, I’ll look at the restaurant’s menu online to preserve my sanity, and that of the people I dine with. It’s only fair.
I’m not very picky. I like all sorts of food, and I am willing to try new things. But I am certainly indecisive. It’s to the point where I’m not even allowed to make a decision at some restaurants, I just have one meal at each place that I get. At White Spot, I always have a Bacon Cheddar Burger, at the Green Olive I always have Mare E Monte pasta, etc etc. It’s a sad, but necessary measure, to ensure my dining companions do not murder me. :)