We headed to Hunt Valley, which is about 20 minutes away via windy country back roads. I got horribly car sick. I'm not sure why I get so car sick all the time anymore, but it seems any car ride longer than 10 minutes has me feeling ill.
We (and by we, I mean I) decided to go to Outback Steakhouse for dinner. I'm not a huge meateater but every once in a while I get a steak, because it makes me feel like I'm getting some iron and protein, which I think I lack most of the time. That, coupled with steamed broccoli and a baked potato with butter and sour cream on the side, actually makes for a semi-healthy dinner so I don't feel too bad about it. Plus I didn't want to be sitting through the movie feeling like a stuffed sausage.
So we get to Outback and place our orders. My husband gets this:
Of course I immediately snap the picture on my cell phone and send it to half a dozen of my friends with the caption "The Man's Gay Drink". He didn't like that too much so he very quickly turned it into this:
Then he ordered a manly Corona.
When our dinners arrived, I cut into my steak to find that it was practically still mooing. I always order medium well. I don't like blood. It's tough enough to grasp the concept that I'm actually eating meat (I was a vegetarian for the better part of my teens and 20's, and even a vegan for a bit), I don't need to be reminded by pools of blood. We waited for the waitress to come back but she was nowhere to be found so the man walked my slab of meat up to the bar and asked them to cook it for longer.
Sometime on his way up to the bar, he developed some kind of stomachache so he went outside to try to walk it off. Yeah, it doesn't make sense to me either. When I have a stomachache, which is very often, all I want to do is lay down. But he went outside, and he left his keys, wallet and cell phone on the table, which meant he was planning on coming back, so I wasn't too worried.
But he took forever. I couldn't wait for him any longer. I finished off my broccoli and was just starting on my potato when the waitress came back and tried to take my plate. I held onto it because, dammit, I was still eating my potato! Which is quite possibly my all-time favorite food. Plus, it was the absolute perfect consistency with just the right amount of butter and sour cream soaked into it. So we fought for a minute before I realized there was someone standing behind her with a new plate of food, including my slab of meat.
I begrudgingly gave up my perfect potato and let them plop a new potato, new side of broccoli and medium-well done steak in front of me. I just started to pick at the broccoli, which was the only thing that wasn't too hot to eat when my husband returned. Apparently his stomachache had been walked off.
So I was in a pickle now. I didn't really want to eat a whole second serving of broccoli. That's a lot of broccoli. But I didn't want to waste it either. And taking it home wasn't really an option since we were going to a movie right after, and broccoli, as good as it is for you, doesn't really smell too pretty. And this new potato was ok, but nowhere near the caliber of the last one. Which was probably sitting in the trash can in the kitchen.
I ended up eating half the potato, leaving the broccoli and eating most of the steak. All in all it was a pretty good meal.
Then we went to go see Get Smart. The theater was dead, there were maybe 5 of us in the room. Which was awesome. The movie was ok; a cute movie that I'm glad I saw. Before heading home, we stopped off at an Italian bakery near the theater to get MIL some cookies (which she had asked for). The Man got a gelato and I got a cream puff, which I ate on the way back to the car and got more on my face than in my mouth. Why don't they make those easier to eat?
I got car sick again on the way home. Gave SB a bath and went to bed myself. Thus ends my semi-annual date night. Next time I think I'll stay closer to home!
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