Me: "I wish I had written down the name of the artist who had the show at that diner in Central Square. I tried to look up his website, but it's not his website, or he hasn't paid for his domain recently."
Comrade: "You should call the restaurant and see if you can get his contact info."
Me: "I don't think it's open. It's a diner that doesn't have a lunch menu."
Comrade: "They took a delivery order while we were there. Someone ordered an omelet"
Me: "Who would order eggs delivered? Cold breakfast foods are disgusting."
Me: "Hi, Diner? I''m a big fan of your business. I really like the way you cook food, I just wish it was colder. Could you slowly drive some to my house when you get a chance?"
Me: "Oh my god. That's what all restaurant delivery is. 'I like your food. I just wish it was colder.'"
Comrade: "I guess we're not ordering in tonight?"
I shake my head vigorously. We stay in. Without buying anything.