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“By the time Dean returned from the washroom I was furious. And then came the food. Dean's Zucchini Alfredo tasted of absolutely nothing, though he claimed he loved it, which made me more livid. "You're lying!" I said, while choking down a taste of it. "There is absolutely no seasoning to it whatsoever. No salt, no pepper, no garlic, no fresh herbs, and it's swimming in water!" "I like its subtle flare," he said as he continued happily slurping, not noticing that he was splashing me with "zoodles" water as he ate. "That's right. Keep eating," I taunted. "You'll want to finish it while it's still tepid." And then Dean squeezed my knee, which is either his way of being affectionate or him telling me to shut up. I haven't figured out that odd little habit yet. I sat back and tried to relax sulk, while contemplating where the closest place to grab a quick slice of pizza may be.” — Amy Rosen