Funny true story.
One of the assistant chefs at renowned Le Bec Fin asks me out. I’m just not interested, but had a great conversation the night we met, and was hoping to keep Chef Smith as a friend. Especially since I’m a huge foodie and Chef Smith had a lot of knowledge in food (duh) as well. We would have a ton of fun exploring the city. But I really wasn’t interested in Chef romantically, just friends, hobby-buddies even!
Chef Smith tries to make a dinner date, I kindly decline and say, “Let’s meet up for drinks.” I tried to do make it at the West Philly joint, Mad Mex to try to send the hint “FRIEND” across as clearly as possible. When I see him, I try to explain that I’m just not in a good place for relationships right now, but I find him really interesting and that we have a lot in common, and I hope to keep him as a friend. I also keep emphasizing that I really sincerely meant this, otherwise I could’ve blown him off via text or over the phone, or just never called back. But that’s not what I did. I wanted to see him in person to tell him this to let him know that I was sincere and genuine about being friends and not wanting a relationship right now.
Chef Smith puts on a sob story saying that I made him feel horrible about himself. This conversation is going nowhere. I try to comfort him and reiterate everything that I said earlier. We talk a bit more. And the next thing couldn’t have come at a worse time.
A few tables down, there was some party, and they were doing shots. Someone in the party sent over a shot for me. Apparently, they had an extra shot, and one of the guys sent a shot over to me (Our waitress was also my friend, who notified me of this…). Then as this was all happening, another girl friend of mine came over and sat down with us. I was supposed to meet her after Chef Smith left. But his sob story was taking way too much time, that my friend ended up showing up and sitting with us.
As the three of us were getting ready to leave, the guy who sent the shot came over and asked how I liked the shot. Apparently, it was a shot called “blow job” (sorry for the inappropriate name). I thanked him for it, he said no problem, they had an extra one, we all were ready to part ways happily.
Before I could say another word, Chef Smith shouts, “Of course she liked it! Who doesn’t like a BJ?” and angrily storms off.
My girl friend and I are both dumbfounded. Our mouths hung open, we couldn’t be more awkward. But we also felt so bad for Chef Smith. 😦
Cheers to awkwardness…