A date created by Greg House may or may not have been extremely horrendous. Possibly disastrous, and involving one of those cheap-ass movie theaters where they have to pull up the plywood boards to make the theater a widescreen view, and possibly an attempted handjob. Or maybe it wouldn't be all that horrific at all, considering how nice of a place he'd chosen when shudder he'd taken Cameron out, those few years ago, and that whole corsage thing. He might not have been too bad at the whole 'date' thing at all.

'Flowers have personality!' Wilson moved to retort, but in light of the fact that such an argument would have been... probably the most flamboyant thing he'd done, defending flowers, and this was coming from the guy who had blow-dried his hair daily and... Good God, he PAINTED his TOENAILS. "Venus flytraps could totally be romantic," he replied scoffingly instead, sounding almost indignant.

Wilson didn't have too much time to act reproving. His eyes leapt open and he jumped at the slap, glancing incredulously to House. Good GOD, he had just slapped his ASS. "Getting FRISKY in your old age," he commented with a grin, glancing after House and wondering vaguely as to the use of 'Wonder Kid'. That just... no. Strange. "Okay. So. Restaurants." He could do that. ...If they existed around here. Did they? God, he'd have to research this or something.