Page 34 of It's Not PMS, It's You

I would take Dee’s advice for now, especially since my favorite item on the menu was being prepared at that very moment, but my bullshit detector had never failed me before and the meter already had some movement at the beginning stages of this date. Not good.

Trust your gut.

Barney snapped a photo of the dish and winked at me again. “It’s for my Instagram page.” He picked up a piece of the calamari and analyzed it, nodding his appreciation. “This restaurant is the cream of the crop andthismacadamia panko crust is the greatest thing since sliced bread.” He held it in the air between us like he was going to feed it to me.

It was a little bit presumptuous of him since we had just met, but oddly enough I found it romantic at the same time. I leaned forward to get my mouth closer, but then he pulled it back out of reach.

What the hell was that?

I was all for a little playful fun, but this was way too early in the dating game for such nonsense because I didn’t even know the man yet. Plus, I was starving. I didn’t like people teasing me with food when I was hungry. Did the man have a death wish?

Barney held the calamari close to his mouth like he was going to take a bite of it and then snapped a selfie with his phone.

Whatever.

I grabbed my own piece, dipped it in the sweet and sour sauce, and took a bite.

Divine.

Barney snapped another selfie with the beach behind him and then set his phone down on the table. “My job as chef and restaurateur brings home the bacon, but marketing plays a big part of my success. That’s why you’ll see me taking numerous photos. I make a lot of dough, but social media and my online presence are my bread and butter. It keeps me as busy as popcorn on a hot skillet. I’ve got two hundred thousand hungry followers who will eat up anything I dish out online, except for the rare few who are nuttier than a fruitcake. Like my last girlfriend, for example.”

I waved off his comment. “Please, let’s not talk about exes.”

Barney ignored me. “She was prettier than a Georgia peach, but a few sandwiches short of a picnic. She didn’t understand that social media was one of the most important things in my life and that I needed to stay on top of it or the competition would eat me alive. Social media is my meat and potatoes.”

“I thought you said it was your bread and butter.”

If he was going to bore me to death with food idioms, he should at least get them straight.

“Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto. It’s the same no matter how you slice it.”

He continued to ramble on about his ex, without making eye contact with me, which was one of my biggest pet peeves.

I wonder if he realizes I’m still here. He must love the sound of his voice.

That made one of us.

I stuffed another piece of calamari in my mouth and wondered if this guy had any plans at all of shutting his pie hole.

I could play his food idiom game just as well as he could.

He was still rambling on about leaving the toilet seat up or down.

Was he a natural-born talker?

Or was he going on and on because he was nervous?

No. He was just another idiot.

This date was getting worse with every word that came out of his mouth and was going to end fast if he kept it up. They just needed to hurry up and bring me my food.

Barney took a sip of his beer. “Anyway, I had another ex who I would compare to a spring salad with pine nuts and cranberries, you know what I mean?”

“I can’t say that I—”

“She left a bitter taste in my mouth. I dropped her like a hot potato because it was obvious that she just wasn’t going to cut the mustard. You know? Why would I want to hang out with someone who’s boring?”

“Or me? Why wouldI?”