oooooo that smell. Can't you smell that smell?

Yesterday was Diane and my anniversary. Nine whole years and it's been absolutely wonderful. Last night to celebrate, Diane and I got ourselves a babysitter and went out to eat at a nice place. Or rather, It seemed like a nice place. Yep the place was nice, but the people had a mean streak in 'em. I thought that the staff members were smiling at us because they were friendly, but they were just holding back the giggles because they were all in on the prank. Diane and I both ordered the rib-eye. Diane ordered it because she felt like having steak. I ordered it because the joint looked kind of fancy and I was hoping that by ordering a steak I wouldn't have to leave hungry. Sometimes I get duped in those fancy type places. I think that I'm going to get a lot of food if I order the most expensive thing. (Eighty bucks?!?! Woo hoo! I can't pronounce it, but they're gonna have to bring it to me on a furniture dolly!) Then the guy comes over with a plate bigger than my torso and smack in the middle is a piece of meat roughly the size of my thumb drizzled with red and yellow stuff with a side of rose petals. So anyway, we order our steak and the waitress comes back and sets it on the table. I was glad to see a lot of food there. Thing is, when the waitress leaned over to put my food on the table she got pretty close to my face and I caught a horrible stench. It was disgusting. How in the world can someone in the food service industry come to work smelling like that? And why in the world wouldn't her co-workers tell her to go home and clean up?
She left the table and I leaned towards Diane, ready to make some comment about the smelly help. The waitress was gone and as I leaned over my plate, I realized that the smell was my food. I could not believe my nose.
oh------my------goodness
My steak smelled like a skunk smothered in saurkraut and served stuffed in the belly of a two day dead hobo.
It was covered with onions. Okay, now if you know me, you realize the magnitude of the statement I am about to make. I wish that they had been regular onions. Normally, I would rather shave with a lawnmower than eat onions but I would have been thrilled to face my old nemesis in this case. These onions were red and slimy. They looked like entrails. They were the source of the smell. I don't really go for stinky food that looks like my guts.
You know what I hate more than stinky food? Sitting in a restaurant with nothing to eat. That's why I thought I would just roll the entrails off my steak and eat it. Actually, the steak itself was pretty good but I could not get that eye-watering stank out of my nostrils and it really tainted the mood. I'm like "Oh yeah! This steak is great! In fact, it's so great that I'm going to eat it in four bites and get the hell out of here as fast as I can." (Chew-gulp-"check please!")
All I left behind was a pile of what looked like ton-ton intestines and ill wishes for the chef.
Other than that it was a wonderful dinner. As we left, the staff was smiling more widely than when we entered. They brightnened up even more when I heard a guy who just sat down say, "I feel like steak."