Be Progressive, B-E Progressive

It was Vicky’s idea to take me out to dinner for our first date. “Let’s be progressive,” were her words. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. We sat down at the Indian place and checked out the menus. I decided on a simple, inexpensive soup and salad. The waiter came to take our orders and when he left, Vicky said to me, “Way to order the most expensive things on the menu.” I thought she was kidding at first and I joked, “I could call him back to take even more advantage of you.” She said, “No, that’s all right. You’ve already taken enough advantage.” The way she said it made me wonder if she was being serious. I said to her, “You’re not really upset, are you? The soup and salad together probably come to just around $10.” For reference, the entree she ordered was $14.95 or thereabouts. She said, “A soup and a salad? No. Try $20.” I grabbed a menu from a neighboring table and showed her that the prices of what I had ordered indeed came to about $10 even. I thought she’d be relieved, if a little embarrassed. Instead, she said, “Why did you do that? You didn’t have to show me then menu. It’s like you have to be right about everything, all the time.” I replied, “But I am right. What I ordered were more likely the most inexpensive things on the menu, not the most expensive like you said.” “You just gotta prove me wrong! Is that how you normally operate? Jesus! Does it make you feel good to have to prove me wrong?” “I’d say it’s wrong of you to start a fight with me over something so stupid.” “Oh, I’m stupid, now? This just gets better and better!” I took a deep breath and said, “You kind of are being stupid. Yeah.” I thought she’d pick up and go right there, but instead she counted to 10 and gave me the silent treatment for the rest of dinner. Of a further surprise was that true to her word, she paid for my meal, even though I offered to chip in. She left right after paying the bill without a word. Bad date, but at least I had a free dinner.

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