We went out for dinner tonight. During the week is a tough sell, but we had to do it to celebrate a birthday. The server must’ve come by three times before we were ready to order a round of drinks. She came by twice more before we were ready to order our meals.
I learned about two things at dinner: girl dinner and girl math. I had heard about girl dinner before, but it was explained more succinctly. Girl math, on the other hand, I’d never heard of.
Girl dinner is when a woman eats a random assortment of foods instead of a meal. We ordered a charcuterie board as an appetizer. An assortment of meats and cheeses on a wooden serving paddle doesn’t count. It can’t, I’m assuming, have a cohesiveness to it. Instead, it sounds to me like it’s basically whatever they can get their hands on when they’re hungry.
I have lived most of my adult life alone and as a bachelor. I only started cooking regularly a few years ago. I subsisted on girl dinners, so called, and instant ramen for the better part of 15 years. How are they just cluing in now?
Then, too, there’s girl math, which, I’m told, is when you, for example, find five dollars in the pocket of a coat you haven’t worn in a while, you are then five dollars richer and should treat yourself. Six months ago, you didn’t lose five dollars, however. That money is newly earned. It’s a free fiver.
In university, I would pick up pennies that I saw on the ground. I would put them in a Pringles container. After four years of collecting, I had just shy of eleven dollars saved up. But, see, I hadn’t first forgotten about or misplaced that money so it doesn’t qualify for girl math.
I know exactly how much money I have in my pocket. I also know that I haven’t left any change in my pants, coats, or cummerbunds. At times, I’ve been a spendthrift, but I’m always aware of the amounts and places where I spend money.
At the end of our meal, instead of the server bringing us the bill, I went to find her to pay. Something went wrong with the POS and our receipt showed that $100 cash had been paid toward our bill. It hadn’t. The manager couldn’t correct it, either. He told me four times that he’ll get on the phone and figure it out. I paid proper amount because girl math simply doesn’t add up for me. Although, tomorrow’s lunch might be something of a girl dinner.