The Pimp of Valentine's Day

So i went out to valentine's day dinner with 7 girls, to an amazing restaurant in Florence called Il Latino (i think). It was Jen, myself and alix colby and a bunch of her freinds. The meal unfolded as follows (btw, i am not the pimp referred to in the title).

After getting lost for the fourth time that day (don't assume the girls who live their have any clue what they are doing) we finally find the restaurant. We heard that reservations dont matter at this place, they just seat whoever they want. Luckily, they sat us right away. Il Latino just brings food out, you dont have to order. Here is a course by course rundown.

1) Wine. Two big crafts of wine are at the table and you pour yourself a glass when you first sit down. For me it was one glass after another throughout the two hour dinner and I probably drank more than the other seven girls combined.

2) Appetizers. Bruchetta followed by a liver patte, followed by mozzerella and bacon. One right after the other in astonishing speed. This course gets you mentally and physicall ready for what lies ahead.

3) Pasta. Huge, huge plates of Lasgna, Wild Board ravioli, and penne with meat sauce. The pasta is amazing and is enough for a full meal. I have three or four plates. I realize that im about to be screwed because im already full and havent even made it to the main course. I drink my wy through it and call myself a panza until i am more hungry again.

4) The main course is a huge plate of meat consisting of lamb, roast beef and veal. The veal is amazing. So is the lamb. I eat and eat. This is the best i have ever felt in my life. I am at a 10 in the scale of life.

5) To make sure you leave wasted they serve you a sweet digestiv drink and a glass of super sweet champagne.

6) Dessert is a tray of assorted cakes and biscotti. I go to work. I realize the girl next to me hasnt eaten in hours and i feel for her.

7) The owner of the place strolls over, gives the table a once over, spits out a few lines in italian, rubs his stomach for awhile, smiles, and goes "30 euro". Yup, that's how they determine the bill at this place. Amazing. He is the REAL PIMP.

8) I walk home happy, my stomach popping out like mount everestt and my brain convinced their was vicodin in the lamb.

P.S. A few hours later i endugled in the leftover wild boar pasta. Who would have known that Wild Boar makes for a great late night snack. Perhaps its the freedom of the boar that can be tasted, perhaps not...its still did the job.