Bizarre Interrogation
I was out with my boyfriend at Black Angus. The waiter asks us: “Are you brothers?” And while we both have brown hair and eyes, we don’t look related at all. I just laugh and say no. But he asks again later. And again. Four total times. Why my no wasn’t good enough, or why he thought we were lying I don’t know. But I’d had had enough.
The last time, I yelled “No! We are not brothers! That would make sleeping together really awkward!” The waiter turned beet red and left. We suddenly had a new waiter for the rest of the meal. My boyfriend was understandably mortified. We still make sure we’re not in that waiter’s section when we go to Black Angus. Him for residual embarrassment and me because I don’t want a bizarre interrogation with my steak.