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”
That’s unbelievable; I can’t imagine what he was thinking. In what world is that option? I’ve been to plenty of people’s houses for dinner before. No big deal, but kind of a big deal. I’ve also stumbled across foods I couldn’t stomach, I don’t like to cause a fuss, so I understand where this guy is coming from but c’mon man! There is always a better option than launching the steak out the window. When the host came back in and asked how you liked it? What are you going to be like I liked it so much I eviscerated any remnants of the meat at all? Rookie move dude. It gets even better; this guys wife mrs_defenestrator decided to share her account of the first time she went to her new boss’ house.
Now for his wife’s account of the night and her husband’s shenanigans.
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.