The Goat Pen

No, it's my wife you don't want in front of you. There has never been a time when we've gone out to eat when she didn't make multiple inquiries of the server about the food. Granted, some of it is warranted but she would ask the counter girl at Wendy's, "How do you do your burgers?"

going meg ryan in a restaurant is something my wife does too...........ordering food not faking dessert

Saint wrote:No, it's my wife you don't want in front of you. There has never been a time when we've gone out to eat when she didn't make multiple inquiries of the server about the food. Granted, some of it is warranted but she would ask the counter girl at Wendy's, "How do you do your burgers?"

at one point that kind of stuff would infuriate me, now I'm just beat down

like I've accepted that when my wife gets in the car (and she's driving), she can't just put the keys in , turn it on and start moving, she has to get her sunglasses, put her purse down in front of the passenger seat, adjust the mirror, adjust the seat, turn on the radio, go to 5 different stations then end up back at the one she started with, plug in her phone....and then we might start moving...no wait, where is my water bottle?

however when its 95 degrees out at some point I yell "TURN THE FUCKING AC ON!"

same with getting out. I'm halfway into the store by the time she gets out of the car. I guess she has to do the reverse of everything I just listed.

"Granted, some of it is warranted"

For example?

reminds me of my women are slow story

huge outlet mall somewhere north of dallas dropped the wife and daughter off at the first store --googled a golf course --granted it was hot and noboby was out there but rented a cart and played 18 holes--drove back to the outlet mall and they were still in the first fucking store. I then googled the nearest bar and got plastered over the next 6 hours

Too funny

crashcourse wrote:reminds me of my women are slow story

huge outlet mall somewhere north of dallas dropped the wife and daughter off at the first store --googled a golf course --granted it was hot and noboby was out there but rented a cart and played 18 holes--drove back to the outlet mall and they were still in the first fucking store. I then googled the nearest bar and got plastered over the next 6 hours

I would have went home and told her to get a cab (or Uber)

crashcourse wrote:reminds me of my women are slow story

huge outlet mall somewhere north of dallas dropped the wife and daughter off at the first store --googled a golf course --granted it was hot and noboby was out there but rented a cart and played 18 holes--drove back to the outlet mall and they were still in the first fucking store. I then googled the nearest bar and got plastered over the next 6 hours

Heh.

My wife can't order what's specifically on the menu. She always has to add qualifiers to everything (make the bacon extra crispy, please no pink in the burger - but keep it juicy, can I replace the croutons with walnuts, etc etc etc). I just accept it as a rule when we go out...but it drives me fucking mad when we order for delivery. She always asked me to do it, so I'm going through all these Special Instructions on Seamless or recounting her list of preparation terrorist demands over the phone to some increasingly annoyed staffer. I can't be too sure we've never had our food invisibly desecrated as a result of her chicanery.

lol

I guess I'm lucky in that regard

My wife isn't so much of a picky eater as she just doesn't want to eat.

She's a grazer. She'll make salsa or chicken salad, sit at the island in the kitchen watching netflix and snack for an hour.

then she never wants dinner or to go out and eat, so we're down to about 3 family dinners a week now with the kids schedule.

Basically, my wife only likes salad, pasta, or chicken. That's it. If you take her to a steak or seafood place she will only stomach the one chicken dinner on the menu with a bunch of qualifiers to the waiter. She also won't cook anything she doesn't like so, basically, I eat out in town here every chance I get.

Reminds me of the scene in Get Shorty where Danny DeVito orders lunch...

eCat wrote: like I've accepted that when my wife gets in the car (and she's driving), she can't just put the keys in , turn it on and start moving, she has to get her sunglasses, put her purse down in front of the passenger seat, adjust the mirror, adjust the seat, turn on the radio, go to 5 different stations then end up back at the one she started with, plug in her phone....and then we might start moving...no wait, where is my water bottle?

however when its 95 degrees out at some point I yell "TURN THE FUCKING AC ON!"

Yep. It's the same thing leaving the house. "I'm ready, just let me get some water," she'll say. So I walk out to the car, since we're already late, manage to get our son in the car and then sit there for 5-10 minutes watching her walk around the house, doing god knows what, until she finally emerges and then sometimes runs back in, before coming to the car.

Then there's the incessant fiddling, looking through the glove box for some lipstick she might have stashed (but also trying to see if she can find any incriminating morsel on me), turning both middle AC vents in her direction or worse, trying to decipher how the AC works like it's something she's never seen before or going through the radio channels with the tuning knob instead of just hitting the Seek button.

I guess I should be grateful mine makes dinner quite regularly without complaint but she has a horrible habit of calling me to the table when the food still has like 10 minutes left

so I'm just fucking sitting there like some idiot in a Norman Rockwell painting holding a knife and fork and I ain't got shit in front of me.

This is what it should be




and instead its this

eCat wrote:I guess I should be grateful mine makes dinner quite regularly without complaint but she has a horrible habit of calling me to the table when the food still has like 10 minutes left

so I'm just fucking sitting there like some idiot in a Norman Rockwell painting holding a knife and fork and I ain't got shit in front of me.

This is what it should be




and instead its this

LMAO

Saint wrote:
Yep. It's the same thing leaving the house. "I'm ready, just let me get some water," she'll say. So I walk out to the car, since we're already late, manage to get our son in the car and then sit there for 5-10 minutes watching her walk around the house, doing god knows what, until she finally emerges and then sometimes runs back in, before coming to the car.

Then there's the incessant fiddling, looking through the glove box for some lipstick she might have stashed (but also trying to see if she can find any incriminating morsel on me), turning both middle AC vents in her direction or worse, trying to decipher how the AC works like it's something she's never seen before or going through the radio channels with the tuning knob instead of just hitting the Seek button.

My wife's classic "in the car" move is right before we are about to leave..."call my phone really quick. I can't find it."

Call phone

"I don't hear it. I thought it was in my bag. I need to go back in, maybe I left it in the bathroom"

Sit and wait. Wife comes back

"I didn't see it."

Wife starts lifting crap out her "hobo bag" (I hate that I now know bag types) one by one...and finds the phone.

After 10 minutes, we're finally on the road.

So women really are all the just same then.

"she has a horrible habit of calling me to the table when the food still has like 10 minutes left"

I'm sure her side of it is that you've been engrossed in a basketball game or rerun of Law and Order or a piece of lint in your belly button (etc) on so many occasions when she's called you to dinner, only to be left sitting there holding back tears as the fambly is gathered around a hot meal waiting for pappy to come say grace over it, then they huddle together quietly sobbing, shivering in cold and fear as the meal turns sour, waiting for you to sweep into the room bellowing curses and offering personal violence to any who crosses ye or even looks askance at ye...

So she calls you in early to avoid that kind of scene...

She wants to talk about her day.