Day Thirty-Three: Dagny
Demeanor -- Pâté-like: Mincing, smooth
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "This is my first time here. But I have high hopes." (She ended up liking it!)
Level of influence Ayn Rand has on her life -- Does not extend beyond her name
Snapshot --
((upon seeing a man play Beatmania)) "Ooh. A typing game!"
--
Dagny (pronounced like you'd initially think, but might be afraid to say out loud because you think 'that has to be wrong') is an English as a Second Language teacher in Japan, who I was fortunate enough to catch in the middle of one of her rare trips to the States. Erudite and sarcastic, but not in a tiring way, Dagny was a fine dining companion.
Tragedy struck, however, when we hit up the arcade next door to the Olive Garden. The claw machine that used to contain the giant cat pillow of my dreams had its prizes replaced with some other, inferior, non-giant-cat-pillow toy. My dreams of being a giant cat pillow owner will never be realized. I had to cut the date short - one day I might be okay, but not today.
16 more dates to go.
Today's pastas were
Colonel Bernie
Trump Card
Colonel Bernie
What's the matter, Bernie? Chicken?
Pictured here is Colonel Bernie - #FeelTheSodium!
Trump Card
Disturbingly rich, tasteless, and slimy, this pasta is not worthy of the attention it gets. Yet it always seems to come out on top!
Pictured here is Trump Card - it beats China all the time. All the time.
Day Thirty-Two: Olivia
Demeanor -- brisket-like: frequently sauced
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "You could do worse for ten dollars. You could also do much better."
Irish Credentials -- Inventor of the "Tater Shot", which is a tater tot artfully dropped in a shotglass of whiskey.
Snapshot --
"You know, you remind me a lot of my ex," said Olivia, who then promptly changed the subject.
--
Olivia works as a baker in a local independent shop, and warned me before we started talking that she had "heard 'em all" vis a vis baking puns. "Anything about 'dough', 'bread', 'rising'...don't bring that amateur hour stuff here. This is my life." It was pretty intimidating. Usually people disparage my puns after I make them.
Jokes I might have tried, if she hadn't said that:
-"Flour Power"
-The old "baked goods"/"baked bads" switcheroo
-Something about a "yeast infection" (if the mood seemed right)
-Hoping to see 13 of something and ask her if she called it a dozen (this would likely have required some setup on my part, but would be worth it)
17 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Rich Uncle Pennybags
Rich Uncle Pennybags
Clocking in at a grand total of $17.47*, this is one a-spicy meat-a-ball, financially speaking. You can really taste the decadence that are afforded by the two most expensive upcharges. If you go this route, be sure you're hungry, because you'll want to get several refills to not feel guilty about throwing away nearly an entire NEPB's worth of money on mediocre ravioli and (admittedly great) shrimp.
Pictured here is Rich Uncle Pennybags - imagine it with a big cartoony moustache, monocle and top hat.
*This is the price at most nationwide Olive Gardens. You can expect to pay more at OGs in Alaska and the one in New York City.
Day Thirty-One: Sarah
Demeanor -- Bresaola-like: tender, mature for age
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "My favorite Olive Garden memory is the time me and my friends had a $200 gift certificate so we ate a ton of food and drank a ton of alcohol and ended up in a McDonalds because someone wanted chicken nuggets."
What I really appreciate her being cool about -- That I asked her to Olive Garden, set up a date, and two days later forgot and asked her again.
Snapshot --
Sarah wasted no time in speaking directly to the heart of my interests.
"Did you know that Denny's cuts you off after the 10th plate of their so-called 'Unlimited' pancakes?"
--
I liked Sarah right from the moment I saw her pink dress and leather combat boots. It's a combination not many would try, and even fewer would wear on a first date, yet she pulled it off amazingly. On top of that, it made me look like an absolute schmo, since I just wore some kind of t-shirt. You know. Like an idiot would wear.
Anyway. She's an aspiring screenwriter getting her master's degree and working in retail. She has a hermit crab! Neat!
18 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
The Chicken
The Chicken
"Profit," said I, "for sauce and topping!—profit still, refills unstopping!
Whether Waiter sent, or whether waiting for a bowl once more,
My Ziosk light yet blue and blinking, near the Coke Zero I'm drinking --
In this Olive Garden linking its entry hall to a Crocs store,
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Chicken, "Pomodor"
Day Thirty - Celene
Demeanor -- Cecina-like: dry, salty
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- See for yourself
Painfully determined, determinedly painful -- Agonizingly finished an entire bowl of angelhair and pesto alfredo, the heaviest imaginable combo, just to prove she could.
Snapshot --
"You see," I mansplain, dipping my breadstick into the extra marinara sauce topping my pasta, "this is a far better value proposition than ordering a side of dipping sauce. That's - "
She interrupts me. "Four dollars. Threen ninety-five if you want to get technical."
It was at this moment that I fell in love.
--
Celene and I are kindred souls - and not just because we both have un-ironic Olive Garden blogs (but that is the main reason). There's something about her detached, analytical air, combined with her dedication to the same corporate agendas I worship, that really resonates with me.
I was so impressed I almost didn't notice that she tacked on an $8 dessert, to go, to the bill and then said she could pay me back through some weird online service I'm fairly certain she just made up on the spot. I'm not even mad, though; I live by the credo of Poet Laureate Ice T, who advises us to hate not the player, but the game.
19 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Glutton-Free Rotini
Glutton-Free Rotini
This pasta has been genetically engineered to prevent overeating. They do this by making it super gluey and unpleasant to consume.
Pictured here is Glutton-Free Rotini, and true to its name, I only ate the one bowl.
Day Twenty-Nine: Kelly
Demeanor -- Prosciutto-like: thin, raw
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "I like it. The waiters look like they actually want to be here."
Has half a dozen stories about -- Bizarre ways the fish in her aquarium have died
Snapshot --
"So, you work at ((redacted: a non-Olive Garden Italian-American style chain restaurant)). You probably already know what I'm going to ask."
I blurt this out within 5 minutes of meeting Kelly. I can't bear maintaining a pretense of apathy towards this vital topic. Fortunately, she is understanding.
"Yeah. I think the food here is a little better."
"Wow. When I put that on the blog, do you want me to blur your face out and change your name?"
--
Kelly wears many hats - hostess, aquarium-tender, student, Tinder Queen - and yet manages to balance them all while maintaining her humble personality. It's this affable nature that made it easy to overlook her taking a full hour to eat three bites of fettucine alfredo.
Also, she has the world's cutest cats! I appreciate any date who shows me pictures of their cats. This is not sarcasm. Future dates, take note.
20 more dates to go.
Today's pasta was
Half-Moon
Half-Moon
Mezzaluna Ravioli is the Premium Pasta of this year's Never Ending Pasta Bowl. Clocking in at a $2.99 upcharge, it is, proportional to the $9.99 base cost of the NEPB, a significant investment. Is it worth it? Frankly, I don't think so. Your serving size is small, when compared to the cheaper pasta options. Furthermore, more than any other OG pasta, this one's "from a frozen bag" origins are obvious in terms of texture and taste. I don't think I'd order the Ravioli even without factoring in the upcharge, but the extra three dollars removes any hope of this becoming a favorite.
Pictured here is Half-Moon - the literal translation of "Mezzaluna". Learn something new every day!
Day Twenty-Eight: Ashley
Demeanor -- Sapphorific; pleasant as a three-dollar bill
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "I'm shocked that I like this so much."
High Roller -- Sat down and immediately ordered herself a coke zero and an eight-dollar "Sangarita".
Snapshot --
"When you write the blog entry for me," says Ashley, putting down her Sangarita™, "you have to make it clear that I'm gay."
I nod slowly. "I think I can do that."
She seems unconvinced. "I'm serious. I don't want anyone thinking I'm one of your...pasta floozies."
--
Ashley is a computer programmer who lives deep within the dense forests of NorCal. Her biting wit can make her a little intimidating, but beneath that is an intelligent, extremely funny woman.
As the second of her two requirements for being on the blog, please enjoy this photograph of Ashley's treasured corgi, Scout.
21 more dates to go.