"Baby, I don't eat vegetables"

We'll call him "J." Robust, J looked like he had never meet a pork chop he didn't like. But, he was also good looking...kind of put me in the mind of Fat Joe. He asked for my number, I obliged, we talked on the phone and decided to go out. I knew pretty early on I'd be in some trouble.

So I tell "J" that I'd had a long day at work and that all I wanted to do was go somewhere casual to have an easy dinner. In my mind, I'm thinking about the new Mediterranean restaurant across the street, or the Thai restaurant around the corner. J asked me if he could join me for dinner and I said "that'd be great!" with the kind of perky enthusiasm usually reserved for cheer coaches and people who own little dogs that fit in purses. I told "J" that I wasn't looking for a fine dining experience, I just wanted to chill and relax.

"J" responded, "So you don't want to go to Applebees?"

Pause. Rewind.

I say that I don't want a fine dining experience. "J" assumes this means I do not want Applebees.

Well, "J" is right. I don't want Applebees. I hate Applebees. But, I'm more concerned that he considers Applebees "fine dining."

I reply, with even more perkiness (I can feel a tiny vein start to throb at the base of my neck), "that's right, I'll probably skip Applebees tonight." "J" asks me where he can meet me, and I thumbing through the restaurant rolodex in my head. As this man finds Applebees "fancy," my internal monologue quickly nixes anything ethnic, any place that prohibits jeans, and searches for places where people spit peanut shells on the floor. I settle on BJ's, thinking that it's the perfect blend of regular man food and food I'll actually eat. BJ's is kind of in between Friday's and J.Alexander. A brewery, BJ's is casual with a pretty comprehensive American fare menu. It also has several large screen TVs around the restaurant, usually playing football or basketball. So, I thought this would be a great, casual place to have a first date.

We get to the restaurant and he starts to pore over the menu. After flipping through several pages of pastas, burgers, pizzas, and chicken wings, he declares, "I don't know what to get. This is kind of fancy."

Pause.

I reply, "Well, I've been here a few times and the food is really good. I'm sure whatever you get will be great" And smile.

He looks lost.

I try again. "Their avocado rolls are absolutely phenomenal. Want to try those as an appetizer?"

His reply: "I don't eat vegetables."

Pause.

Excuse me? What grown up, 35+ does not eat vegetables? I forced my face to remain still, to keep my eyebrows from saying WTF?

So, after a long three second pause, I ask, "Ever?"

"Naw, I don't mess with no vegetables" he says, and clasps his hands on the table.

"On purpose?" I ask, feeling my face start to betray me.

"Naw. Growing up we ate, you know, like regular food. Macaroni and cheese. Fried chicken. Pork chops. You know, regular food" he says with the kind of seriousness that one would use when telling a guy he only has three months to live.

"Broccoli?" I ask, hoping that he doesn't know that broccoli is a vegetable.

"Naw.Don't like it"

"Spinach?"

"Nope."

"Salad?"

"Yeah, I'll eat salad. With ranch. And cheese. And bacon bits. Oh yeah, I also eat corn. Corn's a vegetable, right?"

At this point the vein has throbbed into full-fledged jump. I'm flabbergasted. So the only "vegetable" this man eats is bastardized with cheese and bacon.

"Well, I have good news," I reply, "you might like the avocado rolls. Avocado's a fruit."

M

*At the end of the date, when the check appeared, he asked me, "So, is this one on you or me?"