He poured both of us wine and asked her what she would like to drink.
“A Moscow Mule”, she responded, immediately yielding a shocked look of disapproval.
At this point, I was feeling the financial strain of her #nocarbleftbehind extravaganza, and so I decided to take the Old Flower up on his offer to take us out to dinner, simultaneously giving me the opportunity to introduce her to a man who actually had a checking account and showered.
He made a reservation at a meat restaurant and invite us to come over for apéros.
Upon her arrival, she began eating her way through the city.
After she was done with all the macaroons, she consumed the pains au chocolat, then the crèpes, finally demanding steak frites.
It is my strong belief that there is a douchebag in each and every one of us, and I am most definitely not excluded from this equation.