How To Look Hot on a Date

So the other day I went to dinner at The Grill on the Alley at Galleria Dallas. (Please do not judge me for going north of 635 on a Saturday night. And please do not judge me for using a $40 coupon I got in the mail. And, yes, I paid for the date!) Anyway, I’d heard about the snazzy joint, a Beverly Hills import serving all-American (and expensive) food, and decided to throw caution to the wind and not make a reservation as recommended. Well, joke’s on me, because there are, apparently, restaurants in this town that actually get booked solid on a Saturday night—and in North Dallas! But don’t worry about us. We took a seat at the equally snazzy bar, where you can order from the dinner menu. Anyhoo, here’s where I got sexy. I ordered a glass of Tillman Claret meritage (delish), and volunteered to split the wedge salad (very ladylike). But then I went and ordered the chicken pot pie, which, forgive the cliche, was as big as my head. (I guess it had to be, because it cost $19.) I was horrified when the waiter set it down, but probably not as horrified as the waiter—or my date, for that matter—when I ate every chunk of chicken, carrot, and mushroom and proceeded to scrape every last bit of pastry off the rim of the dish. You’ll be shocked to learn I was home—and horizontal—by 9:45. And I was alone.