I think the worst date I’ve ever been on was when I got up from the table at dinner and just started walking around the restaurant, taking peoples’ orders even though I didn’t work there.  The manager caught on pretty quick and after an exchange of words, punched me to the ground.  Before I could stand up, he started kicking me until I finally managed to catch his foot and twist his shoe off.  Using my body to cover the shoe, I lied there in the fetal position as the manager screamed at me to give him his fucking shoe.  When he saw that I wasn’t going to budge, he began punching my kidneys and the scratching at my head and neck.  I knew that I couldn’t take much more so I took a blind swipe at the tabletop and managed to grab a fork, which I plunged into the manager’s thigh.  As he screamed and clutched at the wound, my date and I fled the restaurant.  I think that was the last time we ever hung out, which was good because I was sensing a bit of an inferiority complex in the way she kept bringing up her sister, Kelly.  I swear to God, the whole night:  “Kelly is sooooo attractive” and “Kelly’s husband is sooooooo great.”  Blah, blah, blah.