When I married my wife, she thought the best steaks came from Applebee's. I kid you not. I could only stand so much of that sort of microwaved cuisine, so I decided to take her to better restaurants to educate her palate a bit. Big mistake. She now prefers restaurants with cloth tablecloths and wait-staff not ranked by how many pieces of flair are on their uniforms. My cheap date quickly depleted my savings, and now my great-grandchildren will be paying off the bills from our dinner dates.
For Valentines Day, we're eating at one of the upscale steak-cuteries (I just made that a word) in town. The kids aren't invited, even though they will be footing the bill. We're going to eat very well, and chances are we're going to drink very well. We're going to sit and talk like adults, and try to enjoy every single moment of the experience (with the exception of the bill part).
I have nobody but myself to blame. I could have gotten away with a "2 fer $20" meal deal.


Popular posts from this blog

New Cheapness.

Reality Check.

Not Pretty.