Condiments to the Chef

Here is my little blurb for the writing assignment that I posted for my small group:

His taste in women was always cause for concern. He was a hot dog sort of man searching for a filet mignon woman. During his life, he'd met many women who would have been more than happy to date him, but he turned his nose up at them all. He would settle for no less than perfection--how could he, being perfect himself? He regularly turned his nose up at the women he'd met at his favorite hot dog stand, the women who pumped ketchup and relish onto their dinner or lunch right beside him. He constantly spurned the women who ordered their sandwiches with mayonnaise and hot peppers at the deli he frequented. He always ordered his sandwich without pickles and quickly exited the establishment without a second glance at any of the occupants. He was looking for a filet mignon woman, not realizing that she'd be quite unlikely to overlook the mustard stains on his wrinkled t-shirt, leaving him to drown his sorrows in soy sauce at the local Chinese restaurant.