For Valentine’s Day last year my boyfriend at the time took me to a very expensive restaurant for dinner. I don’t really like Valentine’s Day but he loved it, and insisted on us celebrating it in the way he saw fit.
Our table wasn’t quite ready when we arrived so they asked us to sit in the bar and have a drink while we waited. I smiled and nodded at the waiter, but braced for what I knew was coming from [boyfriend]. He did not disappoint. Ten minutes of me sipping a martini and gritting my teeth at his outraged complaints later, we were seated.
The food was wonderful, the service attentive and the tacky plastic-wrapped rose they gave me at the end of the night was a terrible but appropriate touch. Yet [boyfriend] complained at every opportunity. He treated the maitre’d, sommelier, and assorted waiters like something he had recently scraped off his shoe. He bristled every time I ordered a drink, and goddamn it I ordered several purely in order to get through the night.
He scoffed about the portion sizes, the frequency of water-glass-refills, and judged the waitstaff on their attractiveness. Oh he also repeatedly told me how much he loved me and was so glad we had found each other etc etc.
When the bill came he “joked” with the waiter about how expensive it was, following up with a remark about his platinum credit card. I stared off into the middle distance and wished for swift and merciful death.
I am very much looking forward to Valentine’s Day this year. I will be spending it with the loves of my life [books and gin].