[ WP ] You 're on a first date and its going very well until you make a huge mistake . You somehow get a sign from future you telling you that this person is `` the one '' . Do n't screw it up .

They look like a nice couple. Well, she does anyway. He's... well he's clearly out of his league but she does n't seem to know it. I prattle off the specials: some awful sounding mexican/southern fusion monstrosity, fish in an overpowering garlic sauce, and a fairly excellent stuffed pork chop with wild mushroom risotto. 
 
 She orders the porkchop. He gets the fish. Moron. 
 
 Grab the drinks for a refill -- it's hot out there today and the iced tea is on brew number three of the dinner shift -- and yell for more bread from the kitchen as I key in the order. Sub a shallot and white wine sauce for the garlic abomination; he's fully engrossed in his phone despite his dinner company so unobservant does n't begin to cover it; I could feed this guy cardboard and he'd never know it. 
 
 Back to the table with bread, salad, and refills. `` Your meal will be out shortly. Fresh cracked pepper?'' We used to offer Parm but pepper looks just as classy and costs less. Meh. 
 
 I seat another couple -- this one in their 50s -- and give them the whirlwind tour of our chef's attempt at high cuisine. They order steaks, which, to their credit, are hard to screw up. Swing back to the waiter station to grab the pitcher and top off waters for the smiling couple. Snag the pitcher, cross the floor, refill her water, pivot to his and... water everywhere. 
 
 Pants: ruined. Booth: trashed. Wallet, keys, phone, wad of random notes from work in his pocket: soaked. 
 
 `` Let me relocate you to another table folks.'' I'm getting bayful glares from the hostess; that one sentence just ruined her evening but the table for two by the window which has a reservation in 30 minutes is about to be occupied. `` There you are madam, sir. And might I also offer you a bottle of wine as recompense? I think you'll find our Pino Noir refreshing and well paired with that porkchop.'' 
 
 I bump the older couple's steaks ahead of the fish and pork to slow things down, endure actual threats against my person from the hostess, remind the manager how important our status as a romantic night spot is when he blanches at the bottle of wine, and deliver dinner as the salads are being cleared away. 
 
 Another water refill -- this time without incident -- and the obligatory `` how does everything taste'' as Mr Soggypants has his mouth full of fish ( he has no idea what I spared him with that sauce substitution ) and it's time for the check. 
 
 Add everything up, comp the wine, scrawl a quick note and its time to turn and burn the window table. Clickity click goes the pen: `` Trust me, it's better this way. You're due for an upgrade on the phone anyway and now you have something to talk about to boot. Skip the movie and go stargazing. You'll -- we'll -- be glad you did.''
