Hey kids. My apologies ahead of time for the downer post.
I had a pretty rough evening last night and it has consumed me to the point that I'm wondering if I'm going to ever recover. I feel like my world has been flipped upside down...like the proverbial chair had been pulled out from underneath my heart causing a fall that has shattered everything.
This shit is hard to write but there are some good dudes here that I know understand and give some solid advice so here goes.
Yesterday morning around 10:00 Am I called my wife and told her to get a baby sitter for the night because I'd like to take her out to dinner. She said ok. I hung up the phone and had already made the executive decision that we were to go to my favorite Chop house. There are probably a few of you who know that I am an absolute steak junkie. Not only am I a junkie but I am a very picky steak junkie. My habit is so bad that I actually raise a few beef each year just so that I can control the feed and ultimately the marbling of my steak cuts. No I don't rub the fat bastards down with saki every day like they do with the Kobe beef but needless to say. I'm hardcore when it comes to steaks. Sorry about the tangent..
Back to the story.
This particular steak/chop house that is easily the best that I have ever had. I eat there regularly and the chef knows of my unhealthy love for he way that he prepares a particular ribeye. Seriously kids I can't emphasize enough my love for this particular steak. He tops it with a sauce that brings the salt level to perfection. You don't season this particular chef's steak, the steak seasons you. This particular chef will not even let you request how you would like it done. No shit. My wife requested one done "medium" (I know, blasphemy) no shit the chef came out in person and respectfully denied the request.
At any rate. Fast forward to the date....my wife and I are sitting at the table waiting for our meals and I was telling her about a hooker that I killed earlier that day and our plates arrived. The waitress places my wife's plate in front of her and then mine in front of me and something seems off. My cut of steak is about 1/4 of an inch thinner than normal and something seems off. There just wasn't that "feeling" there. As Blackhawk puts it... I couldn't see a single storm cloud in the sky, but I sure could smell the rain.
I took my knife and properly cut a piece, placed it in my mouth and before I even took a bite, I knew immediately that my cut of steak wasn't a Prime cut. That shit wasn't even a Choice cut. That shit was a select cut at best.
The seasoning, the sauce...It was all the same, but that bastard tried to pass off a low grade steak as a high grade. That shit is absolutely unacceptable in my book. I was heartbroken. I'm not one to be an ass at a restaurant but this was taking everything I had to not get up and leave. O ate a few more bites chatted with my wife...she asked me what was wrong, I wiped a few tears and told her what was wrong...she laughed and told me to quit being a baby as she gleefully ate her effing prawns.
Kids, for the first time in a long time I didn't even finish the steak. As we wrapped things up, the chef actually had the balls to come out and ask how the meal was. My wife smiled and said hers was delicious and I being a big baby said "the salad was pretty good....
Sensing my dissatisfaction the chef looked at me and said Oh? Pause...
I told him that I was just a little let down to know that he wasn't serving Prime cuts any more.
The chef looks me straight in the eyes and says: "sir, we only serve hand select prime cuts of meat"....
Smartass Ed comes into the equation and says with a smile: "I guess my definition of a Hand selected prime cut of meat isn't hand selecting a pack of meat out of a prime location in a WalMart meat department".
At this point he doesn't laugh. He looks at me and says: " Mr. Disaster, I'm sorry for your dissatisfaction. "Your meals will be on me".
Feeling like a dick, I say. "Come on, I'm just giving you a hard time it's not that big of deal, I'll pay for it."
He says: "No you won't"
I say half smiling:"If you won't let me pay for it, I won't come back."
He calmly says, "I'm sorry that you have made that decision". Turns around and walks back into the kitchen.

Holy shit kids. My heart sunk. I've broken off long term relationships that didn't hurt that bad.

At any rate...here I am, a day after and I no longer have my favorite place to eat in the whole world. I will never be able to go back because of pride and my dumbass comment. Yet a part of me doesn't want to go back because I felt like he tried to pass a crack whore off as a high end hooker.
I don't know what to do. I have been craving that steak all damn day, and to know that I could never have it again pains me to the center of my soul!

What the hell am I Supposed to do? He's the one who screwed me? I didn't do anything wrong...yet I'm the one who doesn't get the ribeye? WTF am I supposed to do? I can't apologize for something he did and I know damn well that prick won't be on my front porch, hat in hand ready to invite me back. Yeah, the Walmart comment went a little too far but shit! He lied right to my effing face as if I didn't know what the eff I was talking about.
What should I do? We had something that I thought was special and he kicks me to the curb?
I deserve better, but I know there isn't better? Nobody understands. I try to talk about it with my wife and all she can offer is sex...like a minute and a half of wild bumping and grinding is going to solve this?
I don't know if I'll ever be the same. How can I ever move on from this.... After one has driven a Ferrari for so long...How does one ever downgrade to a Kia and be happy.

I need help.

All my sadness, no homo
Ed