Blind Date

At a fancy restaurant in Hanover (there are like two, pick one). A Girl and a Guy sit across from each other. The Girl peruses a menu carefully. The Guy holds one like a frisbee.

GIRL
I’m so glad we’re having a fancy date for once! It’s so hard to be romantic in Foco.

GUY
Cool, so this counts as a date? I mean… I’m paying for you, right?

GIRL
John, we’ve been going out for three years.

GUY
Sweet, cool, awesome.

GIRL
Are you okay?

GUY
Um, uh, sorry, I get antsy in restaurants. I say random things because I um… get nervous.

A waitress walks up.

WAITRESS
Are you ready to order, you two?

GUY
MORE TIME! … MORE BREAD WE NEED MORE BREAD! WATER! WE NEED MORE WATER

GIRL
Calm down, John, christ! I’ll have the shrimp salad, please.

WAITRESS
And you, sir?

GUY
Steak! I’ll have the steak.

WAITRESS
And, how would you like it cooked?

GUY
Rare. Give me the rarest steak you can get your hands on. Albino Hungarian sheepmulebeef shank steak. Least common.

He chuckles as he sweats profusely. She leans over.

WAITRESS
I’m sorry, what are you referring to?

GUY
I can totally see down your shirt right now.

GIRL
John, what the fuck!?

GUY
Well done! Far out! Uncommon!

WAITRESS
Excuse me, maybe you need a few more minutes!

She exits in a huff.

GUY
I… I need to go to the bathroom.

GIRL
Oh, please do, asshole.

He leaves.

John walks in and sits down.

JOHN
Sorry I was in the bathroom so long, honey. Have you ordered yet? Do you need me to read the menu?

GIRL
No, it’s okay, they gave me a Braille copy.