A prime example of DOF was overheard not long ago on the train. Young man was talking to young woman about how he and his wife went out to dinner recently. He explained that they went to “one of those American-food chain-type places” down Rte. 1, and carries on with his story. The girl interrupts, “Was it a Ruby Tuesdays?” He says “yeah, a place like that. Anyway, so we were going to dinner…” and she interrupts again, “Was it a TGIFriday’s?” he repeats, “yeah, one of those places.” “Houlihans?” “Something like that.” “Benningans?”
It just went on like this. Lucky for her she was his friend and not mine because she would have gotten a mouthful of meathook. Does it really matter exactly what restaurant they were in? He said it was “an American-food chain-type place”. We all know exactly what that is: there’s a bunch of shit on the walls and they have college students serving burgers and beer. Unless you work at it, it doesn’t really matter which one it is.
One of my lifelong friends had the DOF problem. She would ask me what time it was, and I would say, “about five after one” and she would ask me again what time it was. Unless I said something like “one-o-six” she would be dissatisfied. Even if it was a Saturday afternoon and we hadn’t moved in hours. I guess I can be tolerant of the ones I love.