I went on a stupid date with a stupid guy. I think his name was Dave. We met for a drink and he didn't ask me one single question about myself the entire time (half hour). My favorite part of our "conversation" was the following:
Anne: So, where is your office?
Dave: I don't work in an office.
Anne: Oh. Where do you work?
Dave: Dave 'n' Buster's in Times Square.
Anne: Oh, isn't that like an adult Chuck E. Cheese?
Dave: No.
Anne: Oh. I thought that was the place with the chicken fingers and video games and stuff.
Dave: It is.
Anne: So it's like a Chuck E. Cheese for adults then. Right?
Dave: No. Look, I don't know what Chuck E. Cheese is, but Dave 'n' Busters is nothing like it. I don't want to be associated with anything called Chuck E. Cheese.
Then you're going to have to go back into your Way Back Machine, buddy, and unapply for that job.
And no, I don't want to see you again.
Thanks.
Bye.
5 comments:
LMAO! You're freakin hilarous!
OMG I so want to do that sometimes.
My friend sent me your blog..My real blog is somewhere else and if you want to read my rantings send me at note:
glitterglamgirl (at) gmail (dot) com.
Wait, I want to go there if only to fuck with him.
who doesn't know Chuck E. Cheese? any guy with a brain knows it'd be cooler to work a place called chuck e. cheese (as terrible as it is) than at dave 'n busters, aka REALLY TERRIBLE PLACE THAT EXEMPLIFIES A LOT OF WHAT IS WRONG WITH AMERICA
There are no ball bins at Dave & Busters. Boooooo!
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