Bad Dinner Date
Here is part of the dialogue from a really lame dinner date Saturday night:
. . . "Yeah, I really like sushi and seafood," I replied.
"Oh, you should try Ping Pong. You'd love it," he chirped.
"Where is it?" I said dryly.
"Up on Broadway, across the street."
"Across the street from what?"
"Ping Pong."
"I thought you said the name of the restaurant was Ping Pong."
"It is."
"But you said it's across the street from something. From what?"
"From Ping Pong."
"I still don't understand. You said Ping Pong was on Broadway across the street from something. From what?"
"From Ping Pong."
"So, Ping Pong is not the name of the restaurant?"
"No, it is."
"Look, I still don't under . . . . I wonder where the waiter is with the check. . . . "
3 Comments:
Who's on First?
HEY, I have a date this weekend. Here's hoping he can hold up his end of a rational conversation ...
It's a weird alternate univerese where everthing is called ping pong.
You didn't tell me you had a date this weekend.
Of course, considering how it went, that was probably prescient on your part.
But still.
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