I went to Short Pump one night to have dinner at Maggianos.  Yes, it was a Friday around 7.  Yes, I was starving!  I could eat like a whole breadstick I was so f'ing hungry!!  Me and my man looked great.  Him in Hugo Boss Black from top to bottom.  Belevdere blue croc brogues on his feet.  Me in Theyskens Theory, YSL kitten heels and a Nicole Miller clutch.  We looked good.  We looked like we CARED about how we presented ourselves.  CARED.  Yes.  I would dress like this to walmart.  

So at Maggiano's we were told there would be an hour long wait.  Normally, I don't believe these lies, since I know it is just the hostesses way of saying go away, and generally those "hour long" waits mean about 7 minutes.  Trust me on this.  I have worked in the (dis)service industry enough to know that not only have I seen this done COUNTLESS times, I myself admit to having done it.  I mean, Hey, I'm 19, my friends are partying and I CANNOT WAIT TO GET OUT OF HERE!  SO please do not come strolling into my restaurant at 7:30.  I wanna be out of here by 9.  Got it.

I digress.  But seriously, next time a little high school girl hostess says its gonna take an hour or more or less before you are seated, go ahead and get on that list.  You will wait 10 minutes tops.

However, this night there was a rather large group of people waiting to get in, so Partner and I decided to ditch it and instead drove across the street to Olive Garden.  Bad choice.  No longer were we amongst our brethren, our kin, the beautiful people.  We were in fashion hell.  Women who looked like they had not bathed.  Ever.  Men with Dirty Dicks muscle tees.  Curlers still in hair.  Flip flops were the shoe de rigeur.  No whiffs of Chloe, or Dior.  Instead it was Week Old PBR No.5 or Eau de moi filthe,  Phew.  PEOPLE WAKE UP!  It is insulting to me.  To the people you are sitting near you.  Take some pride.  Show some modesty.  I do not want to see your bruised up cellulite before sitting down to my breadstick.  Uck.  Now I'm nauseas.