(My boyfriend and I are having lunch on a Sunday.)

Boyfriend: “Did you want to do something after this?”

Me: “We could go sleep off this food coma!”

Boyfriend: “It’s Sunday! We should, you know, do it like the band… Taking Back Sunday. Let’s take back Sunday!”

(I start reciting lyrics.)

Me: “And will you tell all your friends that you’ve got your gun to my head?”

Boyfriend: “…what?”

Me: “You mention Taking Back Sunday but you don’t know their music?”

Boyfriend: “They’re a real band?”

(I can’t eat seafood, and my boyfriend of two months knows this. It is a few days before my birthday.)

Boyfriend: “Babe, I’ve booked a restaurant for lunch on your birthday.”

Me: “That’s nice of you, but I just wanted to have a quiet day at home. And I wish you wouldn’t call me babe.”

Boyfriend: “But I want to go out for lunch.”

Me: “Alright, where are we going?”

Boyfriend: “[Cheap seafood restaurant].”

Me: “But that’s a seafood restaurant. I can’t eat seafood.”

Boyfriend: “I wanted seafood.”

(On the day of my birthday, I have to drive to his place, and then he drives to the restaurant. We arrive, and I open the menu.)

Me: “Well, at least they have vegetarian options as well. I don’t think I could just eat plain chicken and salad.”

Boyfriend: “Specials are in the back.”

Me: “Can I read the whole menu?”

Boyfriend: “I’d rather you didn’t. Can you just order a special?”

(I give in, and order the chicken and salad $10 special. He gets the same thing. During the meal he tells me he has picked out our kids’ names. I never mentioned wanting kids. The check comes; he looked at it, turns it to me.)

Boyfriend: “That’s $28.”

Me: “I am not paying that. Besides, I don’t have any cash.”

Boyfriend: “They accept card.”

Me: “They don’t split bills.”

Boyfriend: “So, do I need to pay for it?”

Me: “Yes!”

(I broke up with him a couple of days later.)

(My boyfriend and I are trying a new restaurant close by us. A lot of the popular local restaurants have buckets of peanuts still in the shells on the table, and it’s tradition to throw the shells on the floor. We are both artistic, and the only customers in the place this late at night.)

Me: “I never thought this place would be so dead.”

Boyfriend: “I know, I’ve heard so much about it. I thought it would be full.”

(I start tearing shells apart, and placing them in a pattern on the table. My boyfriend starts adding to it.)

Waitress: “Everything goi—whoa! Wait, wait! Can I take a picture? My daughter will love this!”

Me: “Of course!”

(The waitress takes out her phone, and snaps a picture. The peanut shells are in the shape of a sunflower.)

Waitress: “She loves sunflowers! That’s the best thing I’ve seen these shells used for!”

(My boyfriend and I smile at each other when the waitress walks away.)

Boyfriend: “Should we?”

(We continue adding more to the flower until it takes up almost the whole table. The waitress comes back.)

Waitress: “Oh, my God! Now I need another! This is great! You two made my night!”

(The waitress ends up talking to us all night. She makes the closing employees leave the shells on our table for the opening staff to see. My boyfriend and I are beaming for the rest of our anniversary.)

(My boyfriend has recently bought some lottery tickets. We are talking about what we would do with the money if he won.)

Boyfriend: “What would you do if I won the jackpot?”

Me: “Marry you.”

Husband: “I’m going to defer to your judgment on this, since you are the more sensible one.”

Me: “Oh, wow, I am! I’m so used to you being better at me than everything. But you’re very abstract and factual in your intelligence, while I’m more down to earth and practical.”

Husband: “Thank you.”

Me: “I’m so used to you being right all the time. It’s one of the qualities I married you for. Haha, it’s because you’re Mr. Right—”

Husband: “—I want a divorce.”

Related:
Divorce For Dessert