The Ultimate Debate: Sharing meals with our other at restaurants

Those of you who are longtime WBFF readers will faintly remember a blogger who worked for me and wrote blog posts infrequently.  His name was friedchips; it was a terrible name.  He’s fine…just in case you were wondering if he died or something.

But since he can’t seem to come up with a blog idea on his own, I tried to give him a nudge by emailing him with some questions.  I told him to give me as long of an explanation as he wanted, provide examples, throw out crazy theories, whatever.

The questions were: Do you find yourself splitting two entrees with your girlfriend sometimes when you go out to dinner?  Is it every time?  Do you like it?  How does she react if you decide one day that you want to eat the entire meal that you personally ordered, no sharing?

A total softball question that he should have crushed.

His response was: “I’m into splitting entrees.  We usually split everything.  Occasionally I don’t want to and I just say so and we don’t.”


I guess I was hoping he’d spawn this great debate that sheds light on the inherent differences between men and women.  He’d eloquently contrast man’s instinct to eat a 32oz ribeye and half-pound of potatoes by himself with woman’s instinct to share a few plates, one of which is always a salad.  And not a normal salad either.  One that has to include apples and walnuts and some lame dressing.

It seems a woman's ideal dinner looks like this
But this aligns better with a man's preference to demolish a meal on his own

I bet you think this blog is heading in the direction of me complaining about my girlfriend constantly wanting to split meals at restaurants.  But I actually couldn’t be happier with the fact that she always wants to split two entrees when we go out.  It’s a brilliant idea assuming two things: your girlfriend has your same exact taste and preferences for food as you, and on the rare occasion where you want to order something for yourself and not share it, she can be cool with that.

It goes against my instincts to always say yes to sharing, and part of me feels like I’m losing control over my life, but why wouldn’t you want to sample multiple things from a good restaurant?  The salad continues to be a deal breaker because for the most part I don’t consider it a full meal.

So I turn to you, dear blog readers, to help answer the age-old question: to share your meal or not to share your meal?  (Women should weigh in on this too…maybe it’s the guy that always wants to share in certain relationships)

Biggest Dilemma of 2012: Should I pay to see the Red Sox or not?

I’m facing a big dilemma with the Red Sox this year.  I’ll be back in Boston at the end of May, right in time for their home stand against the Rays and the Tigers.  And the tough decision I have to make is whether to buy a ticket to see them or not.  As soon as I write those words, I want to chop off my fingers because this is absolute blasphemy.  How could I possibly be in Boston for nine days and NOT go to Fenway at least once?  If this was any other year, I’d be getting tickets for two or three games, with the distinct possibility that I’d get kicked out of at least one of them.

And I’ve got a pretty nice streak going where I’ve been to Fenway at least once a year since 1998.  Why would I want to screw that up?  Well, I don’t.  And I probably won’t end the streak, but for the first time in many years I’m not saying to myself, “I’m going to Fenway this year no matter what it costs.”

I’m the same guy that went to 25 games a year in college, spending all of my money (at least the portion that wasn’t going to alcohol and Slim Jims) on tickets.  The day I moved into the BU dorm freshman year, I shooed my parents off before my mom could even get her third tear out because I needed to go scalp a ticket to Pedro vs the Yankees that afternoon.  I’ve slept on a sidewalk outside Fenway for a chance to get tickets to a Sox/Yankees game.  I’d categorize myself as a devoted fan.

The problem is that the Red Sox are off to a “blazing” 1-5 start, and they have another 39 games to play before I’m in Boston.  Do I want to buy tickets now to see a team that might be 5-40 by that time?  Can anyone promise me that injuries won’t ravage the starting rotation and I won’t be forced to watch Kyle Weiland implode in a four-inning spot start?  (Oh, Weiland isn’t on the Sox anymore?  Bummer, really gonna miss that “I just shat myself” look he has whenever he pitches to major league hitters)

At this point in my life, no magical comeback in sports could surprise me, not in a single game and not over the course of the season.  So even if the Sox started 1-20 in a typical season, I wouldn’t panic or count them out.  But this isn’t a typical season because of last year.  Even though it’s only 1-5, it is not out of line for Sox fans to be panicking a little.  If any team needed to get off to a fast start in 2012, it was these guys.

It’s not that I question the team’s talent or personnel.  And it’s not that  injuries are already a problem (which they are).  It’s that I can’t trust this team because all the key players were involved in last year’s mess.  And anyone not involved in the 2011 meltdown is new to the team, and it’ll take a while to see if we can trust them. Two guys who we always knew were giving 100% effort are gone in Varitek and Wakefield.  We have no clue on a yearly basis what Beckett, the shortstop position or the entire outfield (healthy and unhealthy guys) will bring to the table.  The entire team keeps calling the bullpen a “work in progress,” and they’re trotting guys out of the pen nightly who I’ve never heard of….Justin Thomas?  And we are all extremely uneasy with the manager situation.  I also don’t know anything about the General Manager, and I no longer feel like I know the owners.  It’s like the entire team/fan relationship is starting from scratch.

This is our first impression of the newly non-reliable Red Sox.  And as soon as we shook their hand, they shoved us to the ground and ripped a nasty fart all over us.  It’s not irreparable, but it stinks.

Am I going to shell out the $30 for a crappy bleacher seat and another $60 for eight beers during the game?  Of course I am.  I might even talk myself into seeing two games.  But if the Bruins or Celtics have a playoff game on that same day, I might gladly hand over my Red Sox tickets and watch the two teams that I know and trust.