I was once hitting on a relatively cute girl on a flight to NYC. She lived fairly close to me in Detroit, so I figured it was a win/win, with options to keep it a weekend fling or call her up once we were back at home. Anyway, through the course of our conversation I found out that she hated French food, which she had discovered during a study abroad program in college. This piqued my interest, because, well, who hates Parisian food in Paris? So, I inquired, what was her ideal food. Her reply, no joke, was, "Ummmm, have you ever heard of Applebee's?" It was simultaneously horrifying and yet also endearing in its folksy innocence. I tried at once to cut the conversation off, but I had to hear a dreadfully boring story about how her favorite thing in the world is something called "Mexiranch" (I hope to never, ever have the misfortune of finding out firsthand what Mexiranch tastes like), and that her mother had bought her a gallon of the shit straight from the Applebee's kitchen for her for Christmas the previous year. That day was one of only two times in my life that I turned down as easy score from an attractive girl (the other involving a girl who turned out to be extremely racist, almost to the point of something you would see in one of those bad comedies where the hopeless main character goes through a montage of bad dates before he finds the nice librarian who changes his life). It's amazing how off putting terrible taste can be.