A Valentine's Day Story or What Not to Do On a Date
I was sweet 16 or somewhere near that and I was dating a guy named Steve. Nice guy, raised by nice parents who had taught him well. It was Valentine's Day and he was taking me out to dinner at one of the nicer restaurants of our home town of Corvallis Oregon. The restaurant was known for its intimate atmosphere - read LOW lights. There was a multi-course dinner being served that night starting with a simple appetizer of fresh vegetables and a soft white cheese. Or so I thought. I cut off a piece of the soft white cheese and delicately put it into my mouth and began to chew. I paused - puzzled. What kind of cheese was this? Why, it tasted just like... butter? At that moment the waitress came around to our table with a basket of bread and gave a puzzled look at the missing chunk of butter. I put a delighted look on my face (thank you theater class) and swallowed. Steve, that well trained boy, never bat an eye, never said a word and it was a delightful dinner - though I was a bit more careful at identifying things in the low light for the rest of the evening.
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