Under normal circumstances, Myles and I would have been in near hysterics appreciating the comedic value of the whole experience. On date number four, Myles had taken me to a restaurant that was legendary within the Northeast, only to spot a pre-diabetic, little brown mouse waddling his fat a*s across the floor as we were asking for the check. It was a situation that tested one’s true composure and we passed with flying colors.
While no one wants to see a mouse in the same room where they just had a dining experience, there’s really nothing you can do about it after the fact except steer clear of eating there going forward. I imagine if we both became horrifically ill later that night then our views may be a bit more aggravated, but no harm no foul in our eyes. And we still laugh about it
