I saw “Date Night” last night starring Steve Carell and Tina Fey.
Ignore any mediocre reviews you’ve read. Trust your instincts about these two and go see it. It’s really, really funny. (And stay for the credits — there are outtakes.)
Then sit back and be thankful that your worst date doesn’t even compare.
My worst date actually turned out to be one of my favorite stories.
I was in college and met a guy at a good friend’s house. He came to see me at school one weekend and took me out to dinner at Red Lobster — a big night out.
When we ordered, he asked the waitress if there were nuts in any of his dishes, but she assured him there were not. (He had a nut allergy.)
Our first course arrived — his rice pilaf, my coleslaw — and we were chatting about whatever. Suddenly, his eyes got very large and he projectile spit his entire mouthful of rice pilaf all over my face.
Before I could react — get mad or laugh or shake the rice out of my eyebrows — he started yelling,
“Call 9-1-1! Call 9-1-1! Call 9-1-1!”
…each more muffled and unintelligible as his throat closed up.
Turns out there were almonds in the rice pilaf.
So, I spent that date in the emergency room, making sure a guy I had only met once before didn’t die.
And I didn’t even get to eat my cheesy bread.