I like food.
I like to try lots of different stuff. I’m reasonably adventurous. But I also like to make sure that when I order a meal in a restaurant, I’m going to enjoy it*.
The obvious solution is to order something “safe”, but also try a little taste of whatever Mr E Man orders. Just a leeettle sip of his drink; just a leeettle bite of his food.
He calls this “tithing”, or more accurately “fucking tithing” (even though I take much less than 10%), and complains good naturedly every time I do it (even though I always give him a taste of my food and drink in return).
We had a very rare week-night dinner out last night, at a new place near our house. Mr E Man is on a mission to find the best ribs in Vancouver**, so when he heard that they had a rack of baby back ribs on special, that’s what he chose. I opted for the halibut, and switched my beer order from the lager to the IPA after tasting a leettle bit of Mr E Man’s pint (thereby proving the usefulness of tithing).
My fish was pretty good, so I cut off a chunk and transferred it to Mr E Man’s plate. He ate it, but didn’t reciprocate the gift until I reminded him about tithing.
Mr E Man: [dirty look]
Me: “Oh come on, I just want that little one from the end”
Mr E Man: “Every time!”
Me: “It’s tradition. Women have been stealing men’s ribs ever since the Garden of Eden”
Mr E Man: “But you don’t even believe that, even though it’s totally true and you can’t prove any different!”
Me: “Yes I can! If women were made from a man’s rib, they’d have Y chromosomes!”
Mr E Man, eating a rib: “Mmmmmmmm, tasty chromosomes. You can’t have any”
I got my way in the end, of course. I thought the ribs were pretty tasty, but Mr E Man was disappointed. He says he’s going to stop ordering ribs in new places, because his standards are too high and burgers are a better way to judge the overall quality of the restaurant. In future, he will only move on to try the ribs in places that pass the burger test.
We all have our little foibles; tithing (and scientific pedantry in the face of inaccurate religious mythology) isn’t too much for him to live with, right, guys?
*I’m actually really, really good at this. My Dad isn’t; he’ll order the most exotic sounding thing on any given menu, then complain when he doesn’t like it. But with the exception of times when the general quality of the restaurant’s food just isn’t up to scratch, I very rarely end up with something I don’t like.
**Current leader: Mr E Man’s BFF. Current leading restaurant: Ouisi’s.