I had dinner the other night with great friends that are more like brothers to me than my real brothers, which is actually quite easy since I am an only child. These guys are not the kind of brother that drinks or spits in your beer while you are out taking a leak, but the kind of brother that forgives you for forgetting his birthday. Oops, that’s exactly what happened. It was more coincidence than plan that we got together for dinner on the forgotten brother’s birthday. Just in case the forgotten birthday brother was mad, I made sure I didn’t go to the bathroom with my beer unguarded. I don’t think he was mad, but in a gesture of extreme generosity, we bought him a birthday dinner. We’re hoping he can be bought. I know I can.
The dinner was excellent, but one thing stuck in my craw, and I hate having a sticky craw. The forgotten birthday brother ordered an appetizer of deviled eggs which were delicious. The presentation looked something like this …
Is it just me, or can you also see the problem with those eggs?
No? Can’t see the problem? Are you really looking closely? Count those egg halves. 1 … 2 … 3 … 4 … 5. That’s right, five egg halves. That means there is a sixth egg half somewhere as a result of our deviled egg appetizer order. But where? Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to get six deviled egg halves? So I asked our waitress where our missing egg half went.
She stared at me with practiced dead eyes meant to mask the fear she felt. I had exposed her ruse to the light of day. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. Her eyes shifted back and forth like a metronome’s pendulum as she considered her options. Will she make a run for it? I readied myself for a chase. However, I could also sense that she wanted to tell me, tell anyone, the truth once and for all to clear her conscience.
“We eat the other half,” she explained with a feigned nonchalance that suggested ice water in her veins. BOOM! My mind spun ’round as I tried to process that “explanation.” I felt like my parasitic twin had just been ripped from my body. Why did I want that missing sixth deviled egg more than the five on our table? I knew what I had to do.
I usually leave a couple of these as a tip after a good meal.
I left only one.