So the other night I was out having drinks with The Hawk and apparently, I am completely un-American or some shit like that because I've never seen an episode of The Andy Griffith Show. Also - something about my never having eaten at Olive Garden although I don't know if that makes me un-American or if it merely makes me really fucking smart. We'll come back to that topic later.

I'll start by saying this: there is no man on this Earth cuter than The Hawk and here's why. Sunday I get an IM from him telling me that Breakfast at Tiffany's is on TCM that day at 4pm. Which I of course already knew because I am in the midst of a mad passionate love affair with TCM and I pretty much know what is on TCM most of the time. Plus, I was all set to Tivo That Touch of Mink at 6pm (Ack! Cary Grant! Doris Day! That dude from The Addams Family who is also Rudy's/Mikey's dad!) so I had actually seen that Audrey would be gracing the screen prior. I mean really - what man sends you an IM to tell you that Audrey Hepburn is going to be on TV in one of your all time favorite flicks? The cutest man on Earth - that's who. Of course I replied that it was NFC/AFC championship Sunday and I was going to be out with the Boys drinking beer and eating chicken wings so I was going to have to pass on Audrey this go around.

Anyways, The Hawk and I were out the other night and we got to talking about Breakfast at Tiffany's (that dear sweet man actually thought he could stump me on Breakfast at Tiffany's trivia - as if!) and old movies in general and then somehow we migrated from old movies to old TV shows and the next thing you know The Hawk is going on about Mayberry or some such thing and I have an extraordinarily gorgeous but rather blank look on my face because oh yeah - I've never seen an episode of The Andy Griffith Show. I tried to tell The Hawk that this wasn't a big deal.  I mean - I used to love me some Matlock. And Don Knotts totally wins the award for kookiest landlord ever (also - worst dressed landlord ever). And I don't think I even mentioned that I knew that Ron Howard aka Richie Cunningham aka BIG TIME MOVIE DIRECTOR was on the show as well. And I intentionally did NOT mention that I actually know some of the lyrics to Mayberry by Rascal Flatts (pauses to turn down volume in head before my brain bleeds just from even thinking of that song) because really: did we need to be tortured?

The Hawk seemed rather surprised by my admission of having missed out on Mayberry for the last 30-something years of my life, not to mention that I think he was a tad bit disappointed. I gently reminded him that 1) I was born in the 1970s so cut me some slack dude and 2) I have seen many, many episodes of I Love Lucy so doesn't that count for something? Then I bought him another Guinness to help ease the pain. Because I'm totally thoughtful like that.

Then - I have no idea exactly how but I guess we were talking about the crazy-wacky-kooky things I have never done (not much) and I said something about not ever having eaten at Olive Garden which frankly, I consider some kind of personal triumph. And for the record, Olive Garden could be the last source of sustenance on this planet and I'd probably die from starvation rather than sully my insides with their food.

And notice how I said eat AT Olive Garden because OMFG - once I was actually FORCED to eat their food. Kind of. A few months ago we hosted a lunch presentation at one of our offices and whoever ordered lunch had it catered by Olive Garden and I near about died because frankly, I may joke about starving rather than eating Olive Garden, but in truth, I need to be fed every 2 hours like clockwork otherwise I turn into a raving, lunatic bitch my bloodsugar drops and I get a wee bit cranky. So I really wasn't going to eat and just wait to raid the vending machine after lunch but when the noises emanating from my stomach started drowning out the speaker, I succumbed and got a plate. Of lettuce. Yes. That's all I could bear to eat. Lettuce. From the salad. And maybe half a breadstick. I don't remember - it was rather traumatic and I've blocked the whole thing from my memory.

Anyways, to all of you (and this includes my beloved Hawk - I am so sorry sweetheart) who claim that if nothing else, Olive Garden has REALLY GOOD SALAD AND BREADSTICKS, I'd like to call BULLCRAP. Olive Garden has lettuce. Plain old ordinary lettuce - ok? It's not dipped in goat cheese. It doesn't taste like wine. It wasn't picked by some fucking wood-nymph and then delicately laid on the plate. I don't even think it's organic. It's not micro or macro or anything other than lettuce. And if my memory serves me correctly (which it might not because as I said, THE TRAUMA), it may have been iceberg. Look - there's a time and a place for iceberg lettuce and it's called in a wedge smothered with bacon and blue cheese right before I tackle a 24-oz. dry aged, prime ribeye (and washed down with a fantastic glass of Cab) OR shredded in my taco. THAT. IS. IT. But iceberg in a plain, old, ordinary salad? I've had more thrills getting a pelvic exam.

Where was I? Oh right. The salad at Olive Garden. As far as I can tell, it is not all that. In fact, it's not even some of that. And Bless Hawk's heart: when I started ranting and raving about lettuce, he meekly replied that the dressing was good and I didn't have the heart to tell him that I make the world's BEST salad dressing (a squirt of Dijon mustard, some lemon juice, rice wine vinegar, soy sauce, a splash of sesame oil and olive oil - adjust proportions/quantities to your personal taste and SWOON!) and pretty much in general nothing he could say was going to change my mind because I am The Queen of " Perish Olive Garden" nation. I'm also in charge of the "Don't Even Try To Tell Me That Olive Garden is Italian Food Because It Just ISN'T OK???" movement but that's more of a volunteer role. Kinda.

For the record: I don't even remember the bread. Clearly it was that ordinary good.

So yeah. I love The Hawk. And I love my country. And I'm so not a terrorist. And I love TCM. I'll even soothe The Hawk's tortured soul and watch an episode of Andy Griffith - one day. But eat at fucking Olive Garden? NEVER.