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A recorded reading of “First Date with an Honest Menu”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Let’s not cosplay as difficult. I’ll check my tragic backstory if you ditch the performative palate. We could order endurance—the chilli that bullies, the salad that scolds, the CV‑heavy wine— or conspire with dessert from the start, call the mains an opening act. A bar with good manners: snaps clean, melts like a confident compliment, leaves no voicemail of regret. Tell me something true while the square softens— a failed hobby, a petty win, the best lie to your alarm. I’ll trade the Tuesday job I left, and why. When the bill comes, we split it like the bar— evenly, kindly, without calculus. If habit follows, let it prove we’re here, not brave.
Alternative version
Let’s not cosplay as difficult. I’ll leave my tragic backstory at the coat check if you leave your performative palate at home. We could order endurance: the chilli that bullies, the salad that scolds, the wine with a résumé. Or conspire with dessert from the start— declare the main an opening act. I suggest a bar with good manners: snaps clean, melts like a confident compliment, leaves no voicemail of regret. Tell me something true while the square softens— a failed hobby, a petty victory, the best lie you ever told your alarm. I’ll trade the worst job I left on a Tuesday, and why. When the bill arrives, we’ll split it like we split the bar— evenly, kindly, without calculus. If this becomes a habit, let the reason be this: not to prove we are brave, but to prove we are here.
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