My Wife Likes To Be Seated In The "******** Under The Table" Section...It began as just a funny comment. It was made when my boss took my wife and I out to dinner at upscale Silicon Valley restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters were very condescending and patronized their customers. Our waiter didn't even try to hide his disdain for the likes of us - two scruffy geeks and a tall chick with big **** being allowed to eat in his ultra hip eatery. This was back when smoking was still allowed in bars and restaurants, and when our waiter asked if we wanted to eat in the smoking or non-smoking section. my boss said the non-smoking section and our waiter led us to a ****** little table over by the door to the kitchen.
I tell the guy that we changed our minds and would like a table in the smoking section. Our waiter is all put out by this and sez he'll see if there is anything else available, sticks his nose up in the air and walks away. My wife, imitating our waiter's histrionic speaking style perfectly, sez in a stage whisper:
"Sir, Would you prefer to be sit in the blow jobs under the table section or the no-blow jobs under the table section?"
About a third of the customers in this very quiet and subdued room heard my wife's pithy comment. My boss and I are practically rolling on the floor laughing and a bunch of the customers are chuckling out loud and guffawing. Some politely applaud for my wife. She curtsies to her appreciative audience. The head waiter has no idea what's going on but he realizes something must be done about these two buffoons and their trashy hooker who are disrupting the elegant ambiance of his fine dining establishment. He rushes over and hustles us over to a corner booth in the far end of the dining room and practically throws the menus at us. He runs off in a dither. My wife in dead pan voice sez
"Oh How nice. He seated us in the blow job under the table section."
My boss has a mouth full of beer which he squirts out of his nose and mouth. All three of us are laughing uncontrollably. One of the other waiters comes over to our table and tells us that a customer has offered to buy us a bottle of some expensive wine. But we ask the waiter to bring my wife another long island and two more beers for us. We order our dinners and they bring us these huge plates with little tiny servings made from esoteric organic ingredients with a salad that looks and tastes like garden weeds and lawn clippings. The staff is very attentive cuz they want our ***** out of there ASAP.
When we finish eating, my wife gets up from our booth and sashays across the room to thank the people who paid for our drinks. Every eye in the place is watching her She loves being the center of attention. When she returns to our booth, my wife looks around and asks
" I'm ready for my cream dessert. Are you two ready to give it to me?!"
My boss is stunned but fortunately my wife doesbn't follow thru with her offer. The next day, my boss tell everybody we work with bout what happened during dinner. My wife tells all the other mission controllers about dinner and even the always serious NASA guys are laughing at the "blow jobs under the table" part of story.
For the next twenty years, every time my wife and I go out to dinner, one of us sez something about sitting in the ******* section. And eventually life imitates art when my slutty wife starts giving me and our housemate blow jobs when we take her to this old downtown steakhouse restaurant with booths and table clothes. I'll tell ya more about that in a follow up story..