Start your story with someone looking at a restaurant menu.
I hate going to restaurants for first dates. I cannot make decisions; I need to weigh my options well enough to feel like I have picked an optimal one. In grocery stores and in relationships, in story fonts and in conversations, much of my time is spent thinking and analysing and deciding, and people do not take this well. Restaurants have unnecessarily long menus, a seemingly endless list of starters and breads and desserts, and I constantly battle with the looming fear of picking the wrong dish and going home filled, but with regret.
The menu stares back at me, a wicked smile spread across its page; a growing restlessness stirring in my body. A tomato soup could do, to begin with at least. It is a classic dish, can never go wrong, and is ordered frequently enough to not raise any eyebrows or warrant any judgements from your date. There is no lingering smell or taste to haunt your first kiss afterwards. I shall order a tomato soup.
There is also the sweet corn and vegetable soup; would that leave an impression of healthy eating? Or maybe chicken and noodle soup? Is he vegan? I cannot remember anymore.
Or! Or I could skip soup and go for a solid appetiser instead. A soft launch into the bigger line up of choices. It could also give me an indication of what to order, or rather what not to order, based on the success of the dish. Potato fritters appeal to me. I will ask for that with a dip… no, no dip. I must stick to the table sauces. Imagine ordering sweet chilli sauce and it turns out unpleasantly thick. I could not risk a sauce experiment in these conditions. Potato fritters with no dips it is.
Good choice, I might be close to making a decision. The only thing I need to do is check the main dishes and ensure that the ingredients are not clashing, I do not want to have too many potatoes on my plate this evening.
My eyes meander to the right of the page and my chest tightens. This is longer than I expected and is complemented with my biggest nightmare; they’ve listed a detailed breakdown of ingredients and calories. I do not need this right now – more parameters to judge from?
I wish I had a pen right now. It would let me cross out all the dishes with ‘Potato’ in their name and shorten the options I had to pick from. I do not, so I need a plan B. Let me summarise the facts of the situation for mental clarity.
Fact 1, I have decided on Potato Fritters for my starter.
Fact 2, I do not want any ingredient clashes with the rest of my meal.
Fact 3, I need a non-Potato main.
Based on the facts, I know that I do NOT need to make a main selection right away. I can wait till the side arrives as long as I remember NOT to order a potato-related main. I hope I have enough time between the side arriving and the second menu read to assess that decision….
A worry for the future. One step at a time. I peer from the corner of the dish labyrinth page and find my date looking at me with worry. Did I think out loud again? I am sure I did not; I have no memory of moving my lips. He clears his throat immediately after and lifts his eyebrows to draw my attention to somewhere else. I look to the side, and there stands a waiter, with a notepad and a pen. I think I zoned out during my thought process.
“Oh, I am so sorry. I’d like the potato fritters please.”
“Okay”, he says, scribbling it onto his notepad. “And for mains?”
FOR MAINS? My face grows paler. There is no way he expects me to have that decided already. I stare back with a guilty frown, and he catches a hint.
“Should I get you the meatball spaghetti too?”.
My date ordered meatball spaghetti. I found myself judging him for reasons I could not elucidate. But my judgment was overshadowed by the relief of having my meal pre-decided for me. As an added bonus, the decision did not include potatoes!
I knew that if I did not like it, I would not feel as bad as if I chose to order it. Instead, I will blame my date for having terrible taste, and know better than to go out with him again. Good, that played out well.
“Indeed, spaghetti for me too.”