You go out to dinner, you’re having a lovely time, the service is good, the atmosphere’s pleasant and then your vision of beauty pipes up as the waiter is standing there ready to take her order: ‘Y’know what, I’m not that hungry. Think I’ll just have a Caesar salad’.
This is a decision based on an earlier, ill-advised adventure on the weighing scales in your bathroom. Usually, your tiny female companion weighs 8st 7lbs, but today, that’s creeped up to 8st 10lb. Not a disaster but yes, a little heavier.
Quite frankly, you haven’t noticed your partner’s extra timber and even if you did, you quite like it. The reality is there’s a little more shape and yup, she looks like a gift from heaven.
Then as the evening and the reality of the Caesar Salad kicks in, your love starts stealing the odd chip from your plate. Soon the chip-theft gathers pace: there’s even a cheeky little dip into your tomato sauce.
You know what’s coming.
‘Could I try some of your steak? It looks lovely’.
You agree to carve off a bit of your Filet Mignon knowing full well that this determined assault onto your plate isn’t going to end here.
‘Mmm, that’s lovely. Really tender.’
Pause.
Wait.
Hold breath.
‘Can I have some more?’
At this point you are perfectly within your rights to tell your partner to stick to her plate of rabbit food and bugger off. She fell at the first fence during the ordering stage and if she didn’t want the chuffing Caesar Salad, she shouldn’t have asked for it in the first place.
You know, however, this will be a fruitless, argument-prompting exercise that will inevitably lead down the Insensitivity/Accusation minefield. The reality is you are a dead man walking. Your only option now is to give her your meal, let her consume the whole lot and make sure she orders the biggest, most fattening dessert on the menu. Then later, drop her off, kiss her goodbye and stop off for a kebab.
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