I sat eating my lunch alone yesterday (broccoli quiche and salad) in Egg Cafe. I sat facing the room, ‘L’Etranger’ in one hand, fork in the other, looking aloof and very cool.

However, as soon as I take a bite of my lunch things change. I eat with my mouth open without realising and suck at lettuce as if it were spaghetti. I get salad cream on my chin and guzzle down my drink. To put it bluntly, I think if a man were to take me out for dinner he would be truly disturbed. When I am fortunate enough to be taken out by the opposite sex, I make a conscious effort not to throw my dinner down my throat in record speed, order only two drinks (maximum) and not burp.

Yes. I’m a serial burper. Sometimes, I can be discreet but every so often I just can’t help myself. I honestly believe that someday I’ll burp in a man’s face and he’ll laugh. If he says ‘do it again’ I’d probably have to think twice about a second date. For a girl who enjoys eating in restaurants more than her bank account balance could care for, I don’t exactly hold that air of etiquette.

Please remember: if you paid for it, it’s yours. Do not feel embarrassed to ask for a doggy bag.

Advertisements