The degree of hyperbole to which some people live their lives never ceases to amaze me. I mean, really, it must be physically exhausting. Come with me gentle reader. You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into an obnoxious restaurant land where boundaries are that of exasperation. That's the signpost up ahead - your next stop, the Drama Zone!
Picture two couples in their late fifties sitting down for dinner at a local upscale dining establishment. Things seem to be going well. All four are engaged in lively conversation. The one gentleman has made some pretense of ordering a wine that probably didn't merit such pretense but so be it. Specials have been spieled and everyone is ordering their selections with abandon. The one lady, presumably the wife/significant other of the wine-orderer, has ordered her ribeye well done, adamant to the point of stating that last time the steak was underdone. Okay, that's fine, this is the United States of America after all. At least it wasn't a filet.
Eventually, entrees are delivered and everyone seems to be okay
