Mars -vs- Venus

We were out with some friends last night, at Sybergs, drinking beers and looking up the definition of some dirty words on Rich's iphone, I know, how mature, but it was really a quite funny conversation we had going. Soon, that was all the fun we could handle, and it was time to go in search of a place to eat dinner. He asked me, where would you like to go?

I said, I want to go to that corner place for dinner, you know the one, I said to him, it's at the end, on the corner, in that new shopping strip by your house.

To which he responds, Do you want to go to Tuckers for a steak?

I say, no I want to go to that corner place for dinner.

A pause. A sip of brew. Says he, do you want to go to someplace closer on the way home for you, like in Webster Groves?

No, thanks dear, I want to go to that place on the corner. It's right on the street by your house that leads to the highway and you have had enough beer, you shouldn't drive so much.

So we head for the corner place I want to go to, and drive around looking for a spot to park. There are no parking spaces close. We drive across the parking lot looking for the next closest place to park (he is following me in his car). I see this other place across the parking lot, where there are plenty of parking places close by, and it looks open. I drive past to check it out , but upon inspection I think, no, I want to go to that place around the corner. I drive back over towards the place where I want to go, and get a parking spot that is not real close, but the walk is not far, to that place at the corner where I want to go.

I see he is not pulling in next to me but is parked back there by the rejected place, and he calls me from that parking spot.

He says to me, this place looks nice, let’s go here.

I say, no I want to go to that place around the corner.

But this place looks nice, says he.

Exasperated, out of exhaustion, I finally say, fine, lets go.

When we walk into this place where I don't want to go, it is nice and new and pretty but it feels like a lunch place, not a dinner place, and I am frustrated, because this is not where I want to go.

Saying nothing, we read the menu. (It is upscale fast food, order at counter, pay at the counter, wait for it to be brought to your table by kitchen staff.) We order our food, it is Italian and I don't want Italian, either. I order a small Caesar salad and go sit down to wait for him. I get glum because I really wanted to go to that place around the corner.

He comes to the table with two glasses of wine, and I feel quiet and petulant. He says, what’s wrong, and I say, I don’t like this place. He responds with surprise, why didn’t you say so?

I TOLD you where I wanted to go, says I.

He queries, But why didn’t you tell me you didn’t want to go here?

Can someone tell me, how many miles are there between Mars and Venus?