The return of Yoko

A commenter wrote:

Virgin, I gotta say, if there's one good thing you did this year, it's get rid of Yoko. That was perfect, how you did that. So don't feel as though you didn't accomplish anything.

Well unfortunately, it turns out that I didn't even accomplish that. I figured after the last email I sent her, that would be the end of her.

But then out of the blue I get another email from her. She said I got the wrong impression of her. But then she made it clear that the cab rides home were non-negotiable. I was feeling lonely and unwanted, so foolishly I agreed to take her to dinner.

She comes up with the address of this sushi place (which was actually quite good I'd go there again), and the prices would have been reasonable if she didn't order a huge amount of all the most expensive sashimi on the menu. After the meal she suggests a movie, so we take a cab to the movie theater and naturally all the movies are sold out because this is Manhattan. Then she wants to ride in a hansom carriage, so $40 later we are back where we started and then I have to take her home by cab.

A few days later, repeat the same thing, but at a different sushi restauarant.

But then I discover that this weekend was her birthday. Two thousand years ago, a fellow by the name of Ovid warned men about women and their birthdays.

Be careful not to make your first advances on the birthday of your mistress, as that is the time for making presents, and you will certainly be out of pocket.

as translated from the Latin in 1896 by Henry T. Riley. It may have been written two thousand years ago on a different continent, but things really haven't changed that much.

So she tells me she wants me to take her to the Water Club for her birthday. With trepidation I look it up in Zagat and the guide says that it "only" costs $59 per person. Well, okay, that didn't sound too bad. But the guy who estimated the cost of the meal didn't calculate the cost of a meal with a spoiled Japanese princess with the appetite of Homer Simpson.

When she asks the waiter if they have any caviar, I know I am in for a night of great financial pain.

And then for the main course she orders lobster, of course. The waiter asks if she wants the two pound, three pound, or four pound lobster. I'm thinking please pick the two pound lobster, please pick the two pound lobster. She picks the three pounder.

When the waiter bring us the desert menu, I ask her if she wishes to share a desert. Most women actually prefer this because they don't want to get fat. But Yoko doesn't let worries like that get in between herself and a $10 desert. So I have to order two deserts.

With tip, the meal costs $275.

And now she wants me to take her to see the Yankees on Wednesday and Friday. And she says "only get the best seats." God forbid she'd have to sit up in the $20 seats. (I remember when it used to cost only $4 to see the Mets. What happened to $4 seats?)

Tomorrow I am going to email her and tell her that she needs to find a boyfriend with more money. I would do it right now, but I don't want to ruin her birthday.

I have learned the following from all of this:

(1) I had no business complaining about the cost of a $10 bouquet of flowers.

(2) I'm never dating an Asian girl ever again. Only white girls from now on.

(3) The Water Club is a pretty nice place, and one day I hope to take someone really special there. Except I'm thinking now that the "valet" expected more than a $1 tip for hailing us a cab, I hope he doesn't remember me.