Soup for one

I heard a pretty funny joke about the sanctity of marriage this week. Well, it made me laugh. I’m not that great at humor but I think I remember the punchline.

“The reason my relationship has lasted this long is that my husband and I dine out on a romantic supper twice a week. There’s music, flickering candles, great tasting wine, followed by a whole lot of flattery and then some amazing sex afterwards. I go out on a Friday and my husband goes out on a Monday.”

Stick with me, there is a point to this blog post.

I’ve been out of town working all week. The evenings away get kind of lonely. The hotel restaurant is full of people travelling through just like me. Tables for one, our heads buried in a book or in our iPhone between the starters and the main course. Occasionally we’ll look up and twist a salt shaker or crush some black pepper over a watery tagliatelle. If we’re feeling really bold we might even crack a smile at a complete stranger. Last night I took a look at the menu and jumped straight to the dessert.

If you want to alleviate the monotony of dining out alone trust me, just eat a dessert. Don’t die of shock. I had a fresh fruit sorbet. If Chris, at The Juicenut, is reading this, honest to God you better be proud of me. There was a lot of serious competition I can tell you. It was a toss up between a slab of sticky toffee pudding and a blow torched creme brûlée.

Anyway the reason I’m telling you this is because after dinner (dessert) I went into the hotel bar. I started to type a new blog entry on here which had absolutely nothing to do with jokes or loneliness or healthy option sorbets and feeling overly sanctimonious about eating them. Right after I sat down the waiter unexpectedly brought over a very large glass of wine. If I’d drunk it, it would’ve blown out all of my good work on the calorie count front – especially as all I’d religiously sucked was a blueberry sorbet all night. I looked at the big glass of wine, and then looked at the waiter.

“This is from your friend over at the bar,” he said smirking strangely. He cocked his head awkwardly behind him.

You know once in a blue moon, a guy, who I’m not actually happily married to at the time, will find me highly attractive and try to hit on me. I realise you might find that particular fact astonishing. Trust me, I do too. This sensation can be a terrific ego boost if it’s George Clooney’s Hairy Body Double, or, an absolute nightmare if it’s Quasimodo’s Long Lost English Cousin waving over next to me. Either way will depend on where I am and who happens to be doing the hitting on me at the time.

Anyway. The guy at the bar told me the joke. I laughed. It was pretty funny, but, I told him I didn’t cheat on my husband unless it’s on a Monday.

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43 thoughts on “Soup for one

  1. This reminded me of a dinner I had when I was away on business. I was on the road a lot in the later years of the last century and Laurent was posted in foreign climes. I was working at LaGuardia Airport and at the end of a long day made a mad dash for the hotel circuit bus which only ran every 30 minutes. Out of breath I hurled myself into a seat towards the back and near a very ordinary looking gentleman who made a joke about having to be in shape to do those runs. We chatted a bit and I ran into him again when I headed down to the pool for a dip. He asked if I had any plans for dinner – I said probably just the hotel restaurant and an in-depth reading of the desert card. He had asked for recommendations for a good Italian restaurant in the area and said the front desk had suggested one if I was interested. He explained that he travelled a lot and had gotten into the habit of making sure he didn’t sit in the hotel restaurant and read the desert card and if he got in conversation with other business types who were on their own would ask them to join him.

    So join him I did. We split a taxi to a very good Italian restaurant, had a good meal, great conversation and a night cap back at the hotel bar. He had not ulterior motive, was straight, married, and as I recall in the jewellery business. It was a nice evening and sure as hell beat sitting at a table for one and reading the desert card. Except that people are naturally suspect when you propose dinner to a complete stranger it really isn’t such a bad idea.

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  2. Oh JP, sooooo proud on both counts, but were the meals really that bad you didn’t get to have dinner either? If it’s any consolation, last night my planned fruity quinoa dinner morphed into steamed veggies as the quinoa took a turn for the worse and went down the sink – after it was prised from the bottom of the pan with a chisel. Photos to come 😄💜

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  3. I thought the post was very funny. And when I read the part I went to the bar, I thought now were cooking with gas! I never turn down a sent over drink. 1- I saves some money,2- one might find a very interesting conversation anyway, 3-the flattery is a nice boost. You may be surprised to hear this, but only two guys have ever got me to bed by sending over a drink. You didn’t pass out did you? Anyway when I was partnered, and I did hate the travel for reasons you stated. Most times though I was lucky enough to have a co-worker along. And I have problems striking up conversations anyway. Other times I liked the quite and time alone.

    And hell dessert first is sometime the best thing I think….skip the meal and go right to the Earthly delights.

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  4. Oh for Pete’s sake, you already got one and more are coming after you! The joke was funny but don’t feel too much of a hero for turning him down because I would have personally brought my vet over to fix you if you even thought about it! Hahaha, just kidding… maybe.

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  5. Good job! I missed whether the guy at the bar was George Clooney or Quasimodo, but either way, it’s refreshing to read about you so deftly brandishing your fidelity. 😁

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  6. I met the husband in a bar and told him that if he bought me a drink I would go home with him. To this day, 24 years later, he says it’s the most expensive drink he’s every purchased. Guido’s a lucky man.

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