I went to some rock show at First Ave. and I really wanted to be there early because I hate being on the floor at shows where everyone is so sappy and wet. I wanted to sit at one of the tables, elevated at the perimeter of the floor. The best tables were taken when we got there, so we had to sit at the wobbly table right behind where all these tall people were standing straight and high-up, in front of our crooked, low faces. Three of us were sitting at this table and before some band came on this guy Rob came up and asked if he could sit with us.

I went upstairs for a real fast sip of someone's drink and to get complimentary tickets from the bouncer. I came down and had a nice talk with Rob. We talked about lasers, some bands we both like and a few general distresses we were both having.

Rob gave me his email address and offered to copy me a bunch of cds, so I told him I would take him out to dinner at any restaurant he wanted. He picked the Highland Grill because he knew it was close to me, which was one of his considerations (which was wholly unnecessary, but nice nonetheless), and also because he had never been there and wanted to go. I must admit I was a little disappointed in this selection, because the Highland Grill has a real limited menu and no creativity, which seems to be the trend these days. Every breakfast/diner-style joint I have been to in the last few months all "feature" the same food and the same environment. It seems as if all anyone does is get the one-of-a-kind Tex-Mex in a sparkly-red booth, with a great sense of satisfaction and glowing eyes.

So I met up with Rob at the Highland Grill and we looked each other up and down which I recall being strange. We stood at the entrance for five minutes before realizing that we were supposed to seat ourselves. We were finally sitting and five minutes later, what d'you know—our waitress came up. Rob almost drank the tonic water at the table thinking someone left it, but then the waitress explained to us that they keep the tonic water there to help them sell it.

I got the Greek Chicken Pasta and Rob got the Tuna Melt. I didn't want anything on the menu so I closed my eyes and pointed and with my luck I managed to point at the most boring thing on the menu. The way this game is played is that with my finger on it, I have to order it, so I ordered the stupid Greek Chicken Pasta. I think Rob really wanted the Tuna, or to make the waitress laugh, because he asked her what he should get and the minute she said "You should get the Tuna Melt," Rob said "Great, that is exactly what I want I want the Tuna Melt " and we all laughed.

My pasta tasted like it had been marinated in itself for a year, which was a huge disappointment. It got very monotonous and old and by the time I noticed that I hated it, Rob was done with his Tuna Melt. He promised me a bite that I never got.

I tried to explain to Rob this whole long talk I had with my professor about life, but Rob one-upped me by telling me a story about how he got in real big trouble and got a really big fine. He then explained that he works with lasers in order to repay the debt from the fine.

Then I shook Rob's hand a lot, and told him how great he was, and how much I enjoyed having a meal with him. 4/10

(Note that a 4/10 doesn't mean what you think a 40 percent is. It means more like what you think a 70 percent is.)