Fettuccine Alfredo is More Than Enough!

“I’ll pick you up at 8 o’clock. Wear something nice, I’m taking you to dinner,” said the oh so hot and muscular “man” before me (for privacy purposes, I will not include his name, so we’re going to call him Mr. Hot Tamale) As a woman there are two things I absolutely can’t resist: good food and good-looking men, and that night I would be awaiting both.

I spent all day imagining how perfect the night would be, envisioning him pulling out the chair for me at an absolutely perfectly dimmed restaurant and waiters walking around with warm plates of fresh garlic bread. I pictured a small candle in the middle of our table, giving off the perfect light to emphasize the hot features on his face. I saw us laughing and eating delicious food, preferably Italian, which is my favorite of course. He would then tell me how beautiful I was and I would just giggle and sensually eat a piece of some fancy dessert, with a name that I most likely can’t pronounce. I dreamt of the corniest, cheesiest, most cliché dinner date, but I absolutely loved it.

This is exactly how I envisioned my man and I walking into the restaurant. STRUT! Picture from Google.

“Oh god, I still have to get ready!” I thought as I lay there on my bed day dreaming in my pajamas. As I was getting ready, taming my crazy hair and trying to cover up any seemingly obvious imperfections on my face with 5,000 loads of make up, my stomach called my name. It said, “Jenny…Jenny…you know what sounds awesome right now? A number 1 from In & Out or even better! A fresh plate of warm and creamy alfredo pasta.” My stomach was growling before me like a wild child. I had the appetite of a 6-foot football player, in a petite, 5-foot teenage girl’s body.

8 o’clock finally came and he was here! Thank goodness I thought, my stomach felt like it was going to shrivel up and die; I was seriously THAT hungry. The fettuccine alfredo was still in the back of my mind, making my mouth water, however I suppressed the internal chaos of hunger. He knocked on my door; we greeted each other with a little smooch on the cheek, and walked towards his enormous truck. The whole ride there I was taming the dragon before me, my growling stomach.

We arrived, and of course because I have the attention span of a goldfish, I didn’t notice the name of the restaurant. However, what I can recall is the smell of Italian herbs and other wonderful aromas that hit me. I knew from the start this would be the perfect date, and looked forward to the food more than anything at that point.

We were seated and given the menus, and I knew exactly what I was craving: fettuccine alfredo pasta of course! When the waiter came up to take our order, I quickly replied with what I wanted, which was the shrimp scampi fettuccine alfredo. However, when the waiter asked Mr. Hot Tamale, he stiffly replied that he needed some more time to decide. I noticed his facial expression quickly changed and the mood of the night quickly shifted from light hearted and fun to serious cold. My dream of the perfect date soon shifted into a nightmare.

Mr. Hot Tamale then explained that he was simply not that into me and wished to tell me over dinner. In his own defense he claimed, “I didn’t know how else to do it. I’ve paid for the tab. I’m sorry Jenny.” He got up and left; everything felt like it happened in slow motion. As he walked away with his big arms and tan skin, I felt broken. Adios handsome man.

I sat there in shock, trying to absorb and filter what had just happened. While I’m processing the horrible break-up, probably in a terrifying zombie-like state, the waiter came by and served me the shrimp scampi fettuccine alfredo I had previously ordered. “Well, he paid for it, so might as well eat it,” I thought.

Picture from Google.

I took one bite of the warm pasta and I quickly forgot that men even existed. The perfect harmony of alfredo sauce, red pepper, salty shrimp and creamy pasta stimulated my taste buds. I chewed and swallowed until my stomach and eyes could cry no more!

I then thought, who needs a man? NOT me. I finished the whole plate, and to this day, fettuccine alfredo is a reminder that the delicious Italian dish is more than enough for me.