Date night this evening consisted of checking out the latest restaurant to open in our neighborhood, a kosher Eastern European place. The food was fine but I'm never going back there again - after the waiter handed Robin the bill, it was passed on to me and I put my credit card inside, closed the bill and... we waited... and waited. After about 10-15 minutes I decided to try something. I slid the bill back to Robin's side of the table. Within 15 seconds it was picked up. When the waiter returned a minute later to present the credit slip to sign, he gave the bill to Robin. At which point I protested, loudly. The apology wasn't nearly sincere enough to mask the obvious sexist implications. I need some more Hillary Clinton to wipe this bad experience from my brain. How about something seasonal?
There, that's better. Via BoingBoing.
There, that's better. Via BoingBoing.
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