Rate-a-Business-Dinner (RABID?) in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Situation: Dinner with a vendor and Angie, a co-worker

Place: One of those chain restaurants that’s big and quasi-fancy and expensive. Doesn’t feel 100% chainy per se, but you can just tell.

Comfort Level: Not really comfortable at all in the restaurant. The chain factor kept me from feeling like I was in a great place. The waiter looked a LOT like LDL, and I’m having issues with the LDL situation lately. Angie was doing the low carb thing, so her dinner was kind of complicated when the plate arrived fully loaded with mashed potatoes. And the vendor was yammering on and on. I actually liked the vendor a lot—she was quite fascinating, very well traveled, yet extremely down to earth. She and I split a bottle of pinot grigio, and after we sucked it dry, we ordered more.

I wore: What I had on at work because we went straight there—jeans, cute shrunken blazer over lacy camisole, tall boots, my hair up in a messy flop.

I Ate: too much. We ordered apps, had bread (well, Angie didn’t, but Vendor and I did), salads, and I had some kind of buttery chicken pasta dish that was dripping with pesto. Consumed a bunch of wine and then drank coffee after that (a no-no).

Length of dinner: About two hours

After Dinner: Angie and I said goodbye to Vendor and then went upstairs to the bar/lounge where I was supposed to meet some girlfriends. As we were walking through, some guy made a comment about Angie. I couldn’t find the girls, so we walked back the other way and the guy said something again, and that was the beginning of a strange sidebar that included a bazillion beverages, an ex-pseudo-boyfriend (Secret Agent Guy), a near catfight (some jealous girl physically pulling him away), Angie’s abrupt departure, more cocktails, his dissing of the jealous girl, a romantic candlelit table, a new location, a jazz bar, and what I thought at the time was the most brilliant idea in the world: a sleepover at my place (his idea)!

Highest Point: I guess just thinking about how the after dinner antics were an unexpected surprise.

Lowest Point: Waking up this morning.

How it ended: Uncomfortably. It was the second time in a week that I woke up drunk and looked at the person lying next to me knowing that nothing will ever come of it because of the weirdness of it all. Wishing I didn’t care about all of this. Hoping I don’t come off sounding hopelessly desperate—again and again, over and over (I know I do). Whatever. Here’s something awesome: got up and looked in the mirror to find the most gigantic zit on the side of my nose. I picked at it, and…lovely. My entire face has been red all day. I’m paying for last night in dividends. Ugly ones.

Chances I’ll go to dinner again: 100%. A girl’s gotta eat.