Day Twenty-two: Breanna
Demeanor: Greek salad-like: simple origins that yield complex results
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- ((realizing that she was served spaghetti, and not the fettucine she ordered)) "This is too much food. This isn't my fault."
Favorite demographic, out of 'children, convicts, or the elderly': Convicts by far
Snapshot:
I sit on my side of the booth, wolfing down my second bowl of ravioli, and watch Breanna work her seductive magic on our hapless waiter. She flirtatiously cons her way into a free "birthday" dessert before my very eyes.
Then, perhaps simply to prove she can, she gets all the waiters to sing for her. I'm amazed. It's like being on a date with a Disney princess.
--
Breanna has a natural charisma that makes her instantly likeable. Her sweetness is not cloying, and her intelligence is not haughty. I truly enjoyed my meal with her, and hope to see her again sometime after my world of pasta has come crumbling down around me.
27 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Stagnant Pond
Stagnant Pond
After enough time sitting out, the different specific densities of the ingredients which make up pesto alfredo sauce cause it to naturally split into its component elements. Oil pools on top of alfredo, alfredo slides uselessly off of the slick ravioli. It's simply a poorly thought out combination.
Pictured here is Stagnant Pond - I know it's not an attractive name, but it's not an attractive dish.
Day Twenty-One: Lauren
Demeanor: Parmigiano-like: complex, though most people only experience a pale imitation
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- *taking a bite, seems surprised* "This is actually delicious."
Number of times she said the phrase "maybe that's why I'm single": Six
Snapshot:
((Lauren has multiple videos of her dog and cat, and jumped at every chance to show them off. They are very cute!))
--
My third Lauren in seven days, this one was determined to stand out. I actually was given her number by Jessica - I think they know each other through work or a mutual cult or something. I couldn't help but notice that she had Tinder up while waiting for our table, which definitely incentivized me to give 110% on this date - clearly, she always kept one eye open. I admire that go-get-'em attitude!
Like Jessica, Lauren works with the mentally disabled, and like Jessica, she didn't laugh when I said that was great experience for her online dating. She's a great person, though, and was a pleasure to dine with.
28 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Gumby
Gumby
Don't get me wrong, I love the chicken meatball topping. It tastes good and it has a fine calorie:protein:sodium ratio. That said, it is extremely obvious that they are frozen food and look like clay balls.
Pictured here is Gumby - if you've got a heart, then Chicken Meatball's a part of you!
Weekend Trip - San Francisco
This weekend marked my first of my three planned road trips - the other two being Phoenix in two weeks, and Las Vegas on the last weekend. San Francisco is a dense and overwhelming city, yet only has one Olive Garden to its name! You can probably chalk that up to the type of image it strives to maintain - hip, young, independent, tech-oriented, et cetera. Still, for such a Cool Town, the Olive Garden was extremely popular.
The trip was uneventful, save for regular bilboards in the desert paid for by California farmers who blame the drought on Congress and wanted anyone driving by to know who's fault it really is. My AirBnB reservation didn't pan out (he rejected me after I told him about the blog), so I ended up having to sleep in my car at a rest stop. Womp.
Here it is - SF's extremely exclusive Olive Garden, with a grainy, foggy backdrop of the city! I didn't get as many pictures as I would have liked - most turned out mediocre, since I left my camera at home and had to make do with a cell phone. We're off to a great start!!!!
Day Twenty - Claire
Demeanor: Provolone-like: pleasantly sharp
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- ((After her second, and last, bite of her entree)) "It's okay. I don't think it's poison or anything."
Killer app that she designed: Automatically scans the news article you're reading and embeds a link to related charity that deals with whatever horrible thing is happening, to optimize your slacktivism and white guilt.
Snapshot:
Here is a list of pug puns that Claire seems to enjoy, ordered by how long they made her say "eee!" when she saw them on shirts/notebooks/bumper stickers/etc in the store we went to after dinner.
"Pug Life"
"Pugs Not Drugs"
"Pug And Play"
"Pug-et Sound"
"Pugs A Lot"
"Puggin' It!"
"PUG" (underneath an Andre the Giant OBEY style image of a pug)
"The Pug Is My Favorite Kind Of Dog; Here Is A Picture Of One"
--
A former manager-turned-coder, Claire takes a good deal of pride in knowing what she's talking about and understanding the way the world works; you can understand why management was not a good fit for her. More than anyone else I've dated so far, she seemed to genuinely dislike the food at Olive Garden, though she was very polite about it and not at all snobby - I really appreciated that!
Claire spends her free time in her apartment, located in the most difficult-to-drop-someone-off-in-on-a-Saturday-night part of San Francisco that she could find.
29 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Rice A Roni
Rice A Roni
It felt important that I get the most San Francisco thing I could imagine, so I got a meatless, gluten-free dish that cost too much money. Maybe we can chalk this up to the city's love of wacky alternative fusion cuisine, but this looked and tasted absolutely horrible. It was like the chefs were punishing me for not going to a local indie flash-fired cupcake stand instead of the chain restaurant they were forced to work at until Google bought their startup companies.
Pictured here is Rice A Roni - lmao at that giant dollop of pesto, though.
Day Nineteen - Erica
Demeanor: Ricotta-like: versatile, flexible
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "I feel...I feel like you're putting me on the spot, right now. It's okay. I don't come here that often."
Reaction to the food, date, me, life itself: Currently under NDA, will be posted in 2023
Snapshot:
"Oh my god, are those Crocs?" She has a look on her face like my shoes just crushed a puppy.
"I...I didn't think you'd see them. You were supposed to get up from the table first, and just walk away."
"I don't know how I feel right now."
"I'm sorry."
And I meant it, too. Clearly, I flew too close to the sun with nature's most perfect footwear: a mistake I won't soon repeat.
...Unless I'm pretty sure I can get away with it. Gotta have my Crocs.
--
Erica is a charming young woman working in the video game industry, which is apparently a much bigger world than I thought, because I seem to keep running into them. She hails from the far east(ern coast of the United States: Georgia) and taught me a lot about the horrors of online dating as a woman. Most of the stories she asked I not repeat here on the blog, but they can generally be summed up like this: dudes are weird.
To Erica's credit, she did at least *attempt* to win me a giant cat pillow from the arcade. One day, it will be mine.
30 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Trypophobia
Trypophobia
Does this pasta make you uneasy? If so, and it's not just because you don't like garlic, you may have Typophobia, a fear of irregularly-patterned holes. Why Olive Garden decided to include such an obviously triggering dish in their menu is anyone's guess, but I think a tastefully done Tumblr campaign against them might be just the wake-up call they need to be more sensitive to the differently abled.
Pictured here is Trypophobia - eurgh.
Day Eighteen - Rosella
Demeanor: Pecorino-like: Gentle, sheepish
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "I actually like [other restaurant who's name shall not be reprinted in MY blog] more." ((I don't know if she provided a reason; I stopped listening immediately))
Proof of parents' nerd cred: Is heir to the throne of Daventry
Snapshot:
"I hate mushrooms." she says, poking through her salad.
"I...don't think there's any mushrooms in that." I reply, taken aback.
"I know. I just hate them so much."
--
Rosella is no stranger to pasta craftsmanship - a professional chef in a competing noodle dispensary, she's probably served up more food than even I have eaten. In addition to your standard trifecta of nerd interests - video games, cosplay, anime - she also studies both French and Japanese, and hopes to one day be a professional translator. Neat!
Also, I'd like to give a shoutout to the manager of the city of Orange's Olive Garden. Rosella left her box of leftovers on the table, and it was long gone by the time I went to retrieve it. When the manager saw me sobbing on the floor, wailing to the sky, cursing the names of the uncaring gods, etc, she offered me a replacement bowl free of charge. That's service!!
31 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Raviocean
Raviocean
Please follow this guided meditation...
Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. You are floating above an endless sea of alfredo sauce. It is warm, it is inviting. Ravioli peeks up here and there, but as far as you can see is nothing but alfredo. You slowly begin to descend into this infinite pool. The tip of your nose lightly kisses the surface of the sauce, and you continue to sink. You feel the sauce touch, and soon cover, your face, your chest, your legs. Soon you are entirely submerged. You are never going to escape. You do not wish to. This is where you belong. This is home.
Pictured here is Raviocean - I guess what I'm trying to get at here is that they went a little heavy on the sauce.
Day Seventeen - Erin
Demeanor -- Mascarpone-like: disconcertingly smooth
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "I really love it. I know people say it's not real Italian, but I don't care."
Current relationship status: In a marriage that is so strong she found it depressingly easy to reject even my flirtatious advances
Snapshot:
((it took me several minutes to realize that what I thought was a bizarre game of coquettish footsie was actually me accidentally brushing against the table leg, then repeatedly nudging it and getting no response back))
--
Erin is an intelligent woman with a broad base of knowledge and experiences, ranging from cancer antigen research to seeing a man in the ER she worked in who had shot himself in the abdomen. *Pro tip for those of you who would like to go on dates: this isn't the best topic to bring up while eating heavily sauced pasta*.
Afterwards, she took me to an arcade and wouldn't even try to win me a stuffed cat pillow, even though I was staring at it with the biggest, saddest eyes ever.
32 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
How Much More Real Italian Can You Get?!