After yesterday’s embarrassing-my-husband-by-pointing-out-his-lack-of-cooking-skills story, I promised him that today wouldn’t be so brutal. We did enjoy a nice at home date night, so I don’t want to ruin that. Last year, a new restaurant opened nearby. From the outside it looked amazing. It was all brick and had an outdoor fire pit and bar on a patio. We don’t have any restaurants with that charming décor around our house, so we became very curious about what it was actually like on the inside. One night, instead of hitting up one of our standard date night haunts, we were daring and ventured outside of our comfort zone. We decided to try this new restaurant. The moment I walked in the place I hated it. We were greeted by a girl wearing short cut-off jean shorts and half of a shirt. It was like a classy (that is not saying much, trust me) version of Hooters. Now when I say classy, I mean the building not the staff or food. Then it got worse. Looking over the menu made me want to barf. 16 ounce beers were called “man size.”  All of their food had some kind of gimmicky relation to men. …

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