Loud.

I ate steak tonight. For the first time in ages. One of my dad's friends from work, Tim, decided at some point that he likes me. Not like that. He's considerably older than me and married. But I guess he decided that I was cool. Basically, the only times I remember being around him was when my sister was dating his roommate, and we stopped by to drop something off. Tim came over and talked to 12-year old me. I was annoyed by him. Fast forward 7 years. He came to my mom's visitation after she passed away. I didn't recognize him because he was wearing nice clothes, looked older, and wasn't wearing a hat. Afterward, I felt bad for not really talking to him. Anyway, last May he told my dad that the week that I was home between finals and going to France on a summer project with Campus Crusade for Christ he wanted to take me out for steak. Random? Yes. Awesome. YES.

I like steak. And chicken. And pork. And crab. And meat in general. On my list of 10 requirements for my future husband (that would have to be a completely different blog post all together), it is required that he not be vegan. I'm considering bumping that up to vegetarian. I love to eat meat. So he must, too. Anyway.

We went out for steak. And I was dumb. I ordered the New York Strip steak instead of the prime rib which Tim suggested to me. I felt bad. The prime rib was so expensive. I didn't make the same mistake again tonight. And let me tell you, it was the best steak I've ever eaten.

We had lovely conversation. Basically Tim is one of the most inappropriate people that I've ever met. I don't know why he likes me? I make my fair share of comments that I should just keep to myself, but I couldn't keep up with him in this regard. Ever. And I don't think I want to. But I absolutely love going out to dinner with him. He's always on his "best" behavior on these dinners. Tim, his wife, my dad, and I. We spend most of the time making fun of my dad and talking about France. And the Bible. Which I found weird. But surprising. And pleasing.

Tim loves to kill things. He hunts EVERYTHING THAT HE CAN POSSIBLY SHOOT. EVEN YOU. Especially you. Actually, he loves to hunt raccoons. I think? I don't know, I spaced out during that part of the conversation. He wears camo and flannel all the time. And hats, like I said earlier. And he's fairly short. And works at a label-printing factory. So his hands are ink-stained. He makes poop jokes and kind of sexist jokes and jokes about his co-workers (who I know - all jokes are based in facts).

Tim is cool. So is prime rib. That is all.

Love.