Sexless In Seattle

The Slow Eater

I’ve been on several dates, and the theme seems to be the same every time. She takes her time eating food, and I stuff my fat face as fast as possible. It’s just my nature I guess. If I see food in front of me, I eat it.

I’m not a total slob eating anything and EVERYTHING I can get my hands on. But if food is in front of me because I ordered it, I eat it. Why else is it there? I’m hungry. It’s food. Let’s feast. It’s not a race, but if it was I’d win. The point is, as much as I love conversation and good times, we’re there for the food, so I’m going to eat it fast before it gets cold and move on with my life.

Most other people, you might say normal people, don’t do that. I’ve had dates who eat food at a “normal” pace. I’m assuming this is a pace of 30 minutes per dish. Long but, ok, it’s better for digestion or whatever. Normally I don’t care, but I’ve had times where it lasted much longer than that. One date stands out among them all as the absolute champ in this race between the tortoise and the hare.

Spoiler alert: we met on tinder. It was a first date. I promised to cook her dinner. On the menu: Pizza. Usually when I cook this dish, I offer my dates the opportunity to help me finish cooking the meal. It’s a good bonding experience. We drink wine, listen to some Frank Sinatra, and make great food.

This date did not unfold like that.

When she got to my place, she was upset because dinner was not even close to ready. “Ok, I’ll hurry up and get it ready”. I’m supposed to remain calm and cool as I cook this fancy dish, but now I running around sweating like a line cook at McDonald’s.

She said “In the meantime, do you mind if I eat a banana”. Not even sure if I have bananas at my house I hesitatingly reply “sure?” That’s a weird request for an appetizer but ok, luckily I see my roommate just bought some. I turn to give her one, but there was no need. She reached into her purse and pulled out a banana, like that’s a totally normal thing to carry around, like chapstick.

Now I’m nervous. She hates that I’m making her wait. I start hurrying the process. It takes time, but she’s eating that banana.

It’s a 40 minute process at least, but she’s still eating that banana.

In fact, I finish 40 minutes later, and she still has about a quarter of banana left. It looks like she’s taking a bite and just letting it dissolve in her mouth. I’m not sure what the scientific melting point is for a banana but I’m sure even at that rate she should have been done by now.

Finally I finish making the pizza. I ask her politely to put down the rest of the banana and I break her off a slice, just one though she’s “not a big eater”.

An hour later, I’ve finished 4 slices (To be clear for the record books: I finished 3 in the first 10 minutes and ate the fourth 40 minutes later when I got hungry again). One hour later, she has just finished her 1st slice. She compliments me on the dinner. Then she says:

“You think your roommate minds if I borrow a banana”, then she takes one of my roommates bananas and starts eating it (if you call that eating).

It’s as if the moon didn’t just het her eye and I didn’t just make her a big pizza pie. She preferred the banana.

Needless to say, my date with Curious George didn’t go well, so I’m left here sexless in Seattle without a banana.

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Written by Silent Riot

Categories: Sexless In Seattle

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