technically, my birthday isn’t until tomorrow.
But throw in a good lobster mac n’ cheese and the world goes into a tailspin one day early. We ordered a great white wine flight, were blessed with the presence of a cute waiter, and of course, indulged in cheesy, buttery lobster goodness.
In the meantime, we eye-fucked the brie appetizer at the neighboring table. They kindly returned the favor and oogled our mac n’ cheese. Eventually we took our relationship to the next level, made legitimate eye contact and offered up some of our delish dish. We discovered we were both off to watch Wanda Sykes perform in San Diego. Common interests are a plus.
They secretly ordered desert on my behalf and our new-found food lovers serenaded me with a birthday song.
They also informed the waiter that we took a poll and it had been decided that he was definitely cute. I choked on my water, spilled it down the front of my shirt, and turned a radish-y shade of red.
And then, feeling oddly ballsy, I signed the tab, included a generous tip (in case hottness doesn’t come for free) and wrote “Birthday wishes can come true” with my number at the top of the bill.
Ten bucks says he is gay.