More often than not there will be times in life where you need to be at your very best, make a great first impression and start off in the best terms possible. I guess having to meet your boss at her place for dinner can be regarded as one of those very moments.
This story is about a supportive husband, accompanying his nervous wife to dinner with her boss before she starts her brand new job. Sounds like a pretty cool guy right? Well, it turns out that was not the case. When confronted with a raw meat problem (think Mr. Bean, hiding little pieces of his steak tartar all over his table) he decided instead to use a less sophisticated and probably even dumber approach.
Keep reading and see how this comical tale unfolds, first from the point of view of the husband, and then his wife. Bon appetit!
This supportive husband went along with his wife to her boss’ house for dinner, eager to make a good impression
Things did not go as planned…
Last night, my wife’s boss from her brand new job invited us over for dinner. On the drive over, my wife reiterated many times to me just how important it was to make a good impression.
I scoffed and arrogantly informed my silly wife that I always make good impressions.
My wife’s boss is a single lady in her fifties, so it was just the three of us. We chitchatted over drinks and salads and seemed to really be hitting it off. She laughed at my well-timed, perfectly-appropriate jokes and my wife seemed pleased.
Soon she brought out the main course, a nice big juicy steak for each of us. As I began to cut into my steak, I was discouraged to discover how under cooked this steak was.
Now, I’ve had my fair share of rare steak. I prefer medium, but I can handle rare. This was several-minutes-on-a-hot-grill short of rare. I probably could’ve resuscitated the cow had I tried. Instead, I sat there fidgeting with my knife and fork, worrying about how I was going to get away with not eating this steak.
Claim vegan-ism? No, I’d already feigned great enthusiasm upon seeing the steak.
Just then, our hostess excused herself to the kitchen to take care of some dessert preparations. As I looked across the fancy dining room table at the open window of this 3rd story apartment… a cartoon light bulb appeared over my head.
I knew I had to be decisive, realizing that she could return at any moment. I committed. I grabbed the steak with my hand, gently shook off the juice and executed a perfect throw right through the center of the open window.
Here’s the big time FU. The window wasn’t open. It was the cleanest fricking window you’ve ever seen in your life. That is, until my mostly raw slab of steak slammed up against it and slowly slid down leaving a trail of bloody juice in its wake.
My wife – who’s steak was a nice medium rare and was unaware of my predicament – turned, jaw dropped, and stared at me like I was an alien from another planet. This look then slowly morphed into more of a there-is-no-place-on-this-planet-you-can-ever-hide-from-me expression of demonic anger.
My wife’s boss heard the thud of the steak-on-window impact and came quickly. She took in the scene, the steak sitting on the window sill, the blood trail, my empty plate, and then gave me an inquisitive, puzzled look.
I just didn’t know what to say. It felt like a minute of silence, but was probably 3 or 4 seconds. Finally, the best I could manage was “I… I’m so sorry. I am such a clutz… I don’t know… I was just cutting it.. and… it… … it slipped… just ask my wife, I really am a clutz… right honey?… (no help coming from that direction) … I will clean this up… I can’t believe this… I am so sorry” etc… etc…
Both women continued to stare at me like I had escaped from the loony bin, as I smeared the blood around the window with my cloth napkin, dusted off the steak, and continued to mutter my incoherent explanation. I knew no one was buying the story.
I knew what I had to do. I sheepishly returned to my seat and proceeded to eat every bite of that disgusting, cold, chewy, bloody, raw steak.
I remained pretty quiet the rest of the evening. My wife’s only two words to me since the incident are “I’m fine”.
TL;DR: Tried to sneakily throw my under-cooked steak through an open window… only to find out it wasn’t open.
Edit: Thanks kind redditors (:
Update: Just got the first post-“I’m fine” communication from my wife, via text, who is at work…
“good news, [boss’ name] and i just had a good laugh over how much of a fucking idiot u are. i hope u know u will never live this down. love u you moron”
After this story went viral, the wife of the now famous husband shared her version of the fateful dinner
This actually took place a couple of years ago.
I had just gotten a brand new job that I was really excited about. So I was delighted when my boss – who I had been trying to establish a rapport with – invited me and my husband over to her home for dinner.
Well, mostly delighted. My husband is….. well… he’s the sweetest, but he has a history of doing really dumb shit. Because of this, I was worried about him coming along.
By the time the day of the dinner arrived, I had become so anxious about it that I actually floated the idea by my boss that I wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it. She was clearly taken aback and responded “Oh no! I really hope he can, I have a dinner for 3 all ready to go.” Upon seeing her dismay, I assured her that I was sure he would find a way to be there.
Well, we made it over to her apartment on time and things actually started out really, really well. It was actually just the 3 of us, which surprised me somewhat but made me a little less concerned about my husband – as crowds really tend to bring out his unpredictability.
I had just started to finally relax and was a couple bites into a deliciously cooked steak when things took a horrible… horrible turn.
My boss had just stepped into the kitchen to check on dessert when I noticed something odd out of the corner of my eye. It was one of those things where you know something strange his happening in your peripheral, but you’re not sure what… you have to look over and focus your gaze to really comprehend it.
I look over at my husband and see him holding his steak in his hand, hovering it just an inch or two above his plate. Before I had a chance to fully comprehend what I was seeing and verbalize something that might have saved all of us from the coming horror…. he threw his steak – baseball style – across the room straight into the dining room window. It hit the window, making a loud noise, and slowly slid down.
Now my husband does dumb shit, I already told you that. But he’s not a crazy person. Usually when he does dumb shit I at least understand what he’s thinking. There’ usually some semblance of rhyme or reason to the dumb shit.
In this case I was just dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t wrap my head around what was going on. I stared at him with what must have been the most confused look, and watched as he stared back at me, an expression of utter horror painted across his face.
I couldn’t make any sense of what was happening, but I also didn’t have time to try. I heard the foot steps of my boss, coming to see what the sound was.
It suddenly sunk in that it didn’t matter why he did what he did. He did it and we were all about to come face to face with a very awkward situation.
I could feel the anger flush through my face. For a brief moment I contemplated trying to help my husband get out of this. But No. This was his dumb-shit-bed and he could lie in it. Not like there was any possible recovery anyway.
My boss walks in and sees the steak lying on the window sill There’s the fucking longest most awkward pause where we all just sit there frozen. My boss and I are staring at my husband, forcing the ball into his court, as the cringe just hangs in the air like an ocean fog.
He finally manages to mutter some incoherent garbage about being a clutz and even tries to get me to back him up. I leave his ass out to dry in the deafening silence.
He makes a poor attempt at cleaning the window and retrieves his steak. Mercifully, my boss asks me a question about work and we both dive eagerly into conversation.
We all resume the rest of the evening pretending that he isn’t there, a sort of unspoken agreement by all that this is the only way to move forward.
As soon as we got to the car, my husband turned into a nervous chatterbox trying to explain himself.
Turns out the dumbass didn’t like the way his steak was cooked (rare) and – get this – he thought the window was open. My husband, ladies and gentleman, tried to chuck his steak out a 3-story window. He thought that was a reasonable solution to being served an under-cooked steak.
A year or so later my boss hosted a Christmas party for the company at her newly-built home. My best friend, Jennie, was my +1.
TL;DR: Took my husband to dinner at my boss’ house. He thought his steak was undercooked, thought the window was open, and thought throwing his steak through the window was a reasonable idea.
Note: My husband told this TIFU from his perspective a couple years ago and it was a popular post. Someone suggested I should tell it from my perspective. Hope our discomfort brings a little joy to you fine redditors 🙂
Edit: OK Guys, I probably overplayed the “dumb shit” angle. Yeah, he’s known for acting without thinking things through, but this one moment does not represent the norm. From my perspective, in this moment, he looked like a looney bin character gone mad… which is what makes the story so funny in retrospect. Go read his perspective and his actions look at least a little bit less crazy. My husband is a fun-loving, kind husband and father who makes life very fun.
Edit 2: No my husband is not on the spectrum or crazy, although I get that that may seem like a valid conclusion if all you know is this one event. The usual dumb shit is more of your everyday impulsiveness, like immediately saying the slightly inappropriate thing that comes to mind. If he would’ve done that, it wouldn’t have shocked me at all. This, of course, shocked me, because he normally doesn’t do things that make him look insane. Not sure why some seem to be taking the “he often does dumb shit” to mean “he often does completely insane things”, when I feel like I was making the exact opposite point. Oh well. Glad that most of you got some small bit of enjoyment out of your day from the story. Also, we all have our faults. I joke about my husband not thinking things through, he jokes about my preoccupation with what others think of me, etc, etc.
People reacted with amused disbelief at the man’s way of ‘dealing’ with the situation
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