He wanted Veal Parmigiana; she wanted soup. When they arrived, the salad bar caught her eye, and she examined it thoroughly while he attracted the hostess's attention. When they sat down, the delightful smell of fish and chips had them both distracted.
After much menu-perusal, he ordered the fish and chips, and she ordered the Veal Parmigiana. She ordered lemon in her glass of water, but the waitress forgot at first, then brought an entire bowl of lemon slices for her later on. She only used one.
The knives were being cleaned, so the waitress didn't bring any. Fortunately, the veal could be cut with a fork...and of course so could the fish.
They swapped plates several times during the meal, confusing the waitress. She ate far more than she'd expected to. He ate the rest. They talked about how annoying sales and marketing people can be. "They lie about what the product can do," he said. "They have no idea what they are even talking about."
"Salespeople are hired for their charisma, not for their brains," she said. "You can't expect them to be technical. If they could do the programming, if they had a techie personality, they wouldn't be in sales."
When he had emptied both dinner plates, she pulled out the ice cream menu. He eyed the french silk pie, but she insisted on ice cream. He could choose anything he wanted, but it had to have ice cream. He selected the banana split, because bananas will be extinct soon. She agreed, but said she didn't want any fruit or nuts with it. Then she realized that bananas are fruit also, so she modified her requirements: no fruity ice cream and no fruity sauce.
So they ordered a banana split with just chocolate and vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce, hot fudge, whipped cream, and two cherries. "Because there are two of us," she told the waitress. It was messily wonderful.
The thick snow had been falling all through the meal. As they hurried out to the car, she shiveringly remarked that it was "brrry out". She began to brush the snow off the car windows with her gloved hands, as he started the car and pulled out the ice scraper.
He hates it when she brushes off the car with her hands. "What are you doing?", he asked.
He threateningly waved the ice scraper at her and roared, "Get in the car now!"
"Eeep!" she squealed, and scampered into the car.
While he brushed off the rest of the car, she turned the thermostat up to 81 degrees. They drove carefully home, surprised to see so many other cars on the road. "They probably all needed ice cream too," she speculated.