- Joined
- May 25, 2011
- Messages
- 22,588
- Reaction score
- 20,581
I was thinking about what happened to Elliott and the whole Millie Boyle incident and I couldn’t help but wonder how many of us would still have jobs if everyone who had been thrown out of a restaurant with no shirt on had been fired over it. I think it happens way more often than people admit. In solidarity with the unjustly deposed King, I thought I would share my shirtless restaurant story in the hope it might encourage others to do the same.
It was 2007 and my ex girlfriend and I were celebrating our second anniversary. I wanted to do something really special for her, so I took her to her favourite restaurant. It was relatively quiet that night at the George St Pizza Hut. It was 9pm and all of the families had left. There was an old couple having a heated argument about whether Live Free or Die Hard had been better than Die Hard With a Vengeance. The old man seemed to think the bit where Bruce Willis drives through the park was the best moment in the history of cinema, but the woman thought Bruce single handedly taking out a chopper had been a more gratifying moment. There were a few couples of star crossed lovers gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Apart from that, the place was as empty as Trent Barrett’s set play notebook.
As you all probably know, ham and pineapple is a powerful aphrodisiac….and Helen and I were pretty high on Pepsi. We were lady and the tramping strands of the finest spaghetti you will find south of Sicily and were getting pretty amorous. She whispered into my ear ‘Let’s go to the bathroom.’ But I shook my head and said ‘Someone might interrupt us. Let’s go behind the salad bar. Nobody will disturb us there.’ Unless one of the star crossed couples were to get the same idea, I thought to myself. And if they do, they might be up for swapsies.
We giggled as we shuffled free of our chairs. We furtively tiptoed over to the salad bar, holding hands and winking at each other conspiratorially. We fell into each other’s arms and sunk to the ground, kneading each other like dough. I felt her tongue darting into my mouth - like a moray eel shooting out of its wet, dark cave to snap up a passing fish. My breath fogged up her glasses as I felt her hand reaching under my waistband.’Oh Helmut, this is the most magical night of my life. Everything is just perfect. Make love to me,’ she cooed. I lifted my shirt over my head, freeing my washboard abs as I deposited the sweaty wad of cotton on the sticky carpet. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and a lump in my throat.
I still think of her often…. wondering whether she thinks of me too, from time to time. Whether she thinks of that night - the most romantic night of our young lives. I think of her and hope she is happy with the life she has chosen…. But if truth be told, a part of me died that night at Pizza Hut.
Anyway, that wasn’t easy, but there you have it. My shirtless restaurant story. Feel free to share your own in the comments below. The truth will liberate you. Or if you don’t feel ready to share the details, just vote. But please be honest. I know that at least 90 percent of you have had similar experiences. Be honest. You owe me that much given the personal nature of the story I just shared with you.
It was 2007 and my ex girlfriend and I were celebrating our second anniversary. I wanted to do something really special for her, so I took her to her favourite restaurant. It was relatively quiet that night at the George St Pizza Hut. It was 9pm and all of the families had left. There was an old couple having a heated argument about whether Live Free or Die Hard had been better than Die Hard With a Vengeance. The old man seemed to think the bit where Bruce Willis drives through the park was the best moment in the history of cinema, but the woman thought Bruce single handedly taking out a chopper had been a more gratifying moment. There were a few couples of star crossed lovers gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Apart from that, the place was as empty as Trent Barrett’s set play notebook.
As you all probably know, ham and pineapple is a powerful aphrodisiac….and Helen and I were pretty high on Pepsi. We were lady and the tramping strands of the finest spaghetti you will find south of Sicily and were getting pretty amorous. She whispered into my ear ‘Let’s go to the bathroom.’ But I shook my head and said ‘Someone might interrupt us. Let’s go behind the salad bar. Nobody will disturb us there.’ Unless one of the star crossed couples were to get the same idea, I thought to myself. And if they do, they might be up for swapsies.
We giggled as we shuffled free of our chairs. We furtively tiptoed over to the salad bar, holding hands and winking at each other conspiratorially. We fell into each other’s arms and sunk to the ground, kneading each other like dough. I felt her tongue darting into my mouth - like a moray eel shooting out of its wet, dark cave to snap up a passing fish. My breath fogged up her glasses as I felt her hand reaching under my waistband.’Oh Helmut, this is the most magical night of my life. Everything is just perfect. Make love to me,’ she cooed. I lifted my shirt over my head, freeing my washboard abs as I deposited the sweaty wad of cotton on the sticky carpet. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and a lump in my throat.
I still think of her often…. wondering whether she thinks of me too, from time to time. Whether she thinks of that night - the most romantic night of our young lives. I think of her and hope she is happy with the life she has chosen…. But if truth be told, a part of me died that night at Pizza Hut.
Anyway, that wasn’t easy, but there you have it. My shirtless restaurant story. Feel free to share your own in the comments below. The truth will liberate you. Or if you don’t feel ready to share the details, just vote. But please be honest. I know that at least 90 percent of you have had similar experiences. Be honest. You owe me that much given the personal nature of the story I just shared with you.
Last edited: