I lost friends. Not the dinner guests—they were never coming back. I lost my dignity when I tried to win the tiebreaker by offering a “bonus cheese plate.”
I lost my sense of self. I used to be a fun person who liked pizza. Now I’m a ghost haunting my own kitchen, whispering “crème brûlée” to saucepans.
I even lost my cat’s respect. She now only sits on the guest’s chair, as if judging me. She’s been scoring my meals too. Last night I got a 5 out of 10 for tuna. Ungrateful.
The Real Cost
Financially, it was a disaster. I bought a flambé torch I’ll never use. It sits in the drawer, a tiny, fiery reminder of my failure. I could have bought a nice sweater with that money.
Come Dine With Me's top 5 moments from an epic strop to a 'sad little
Socially, I’m damaged goods. People whisper at parties: “That’s the one who served the liquid pudding.” I nod and smile. Inside, I’m screaming.
My husband tried to cheer me up. He hosted his own “Come Dine With Me” night. He ordered Chinese takeout and called it “fusion cuisine.” He scored a solid 35. I didn’t speak to him for three days.
