Dear everyone who takes 30 minutes to decide on an appetizer,
When it takes the better part of the work week to decide where to get dinner on Friday night, we can let that slide. After all, there are a lot of restaurants to choose from before ultimately deciding on the first place suggested 50 messages ago in the group chat. At that point the hardest decision should be made, though, instead of your panic that ensues as soon as the menus arrive.
While everyone else can chose an entree within a few seconds or decide on the spot, when it’s your turn to order, time stands still. As if completely caught off guard, you look at the waiter helplessly and tell him you “have no idea!” This isn’t because you have any dietary restrictions or there are a lot of options, you’re just under the impression that the entire purpose of this restaurant is to support you through the most difficult decision you’ll ever make in your life.
After spastically scanning through the menu, you’ll explain you’ve narrowed it down to two choices which are always the healthier option and the thing you actually want. “Would you recommend the Caesar salad or the double cheeseburger with truffle fries?” you ask, which is obviously an absurd fucking question. Sensing your need for approval, everyone will tell you to get the burger, and at this point 45 people have had to help you decide it’s a cheat day.
Even after you’ve ordered, your meltdown continues as soon as the food arrives and you instantly hate the person who got the best looking meal. You stare longingly at their plate to the point where everyone feels uncomfortable and they basically just give you their food. By the end of the whole ordeal you’ll leave telling us the restaurant was “just okay,” and that you’ve had better, meanwhile we’ve started a separate thread vowing to never eat with you again.
Basically we don’t know how you survive any daily decisions, or why you think food is so stressful. But whatever, we’re getting cheese fries.
Sincerely,
The Betches
