Today, I decided to treat my brother to lunch. Taking my brother anywhere public is generally very stressful considering he has absolutely zero concept of social norms, but I was hungry and not in the mood to eat alone.

Our first choice of restaurant featured a clean-cut hostess casually wearing a cheerful little flower tucked behind her ear. Normally, this would provoke a slew of bad jokes and references to Hawaii from my brother, but he remained reluctantly silent. I breathed a sigh of relief while the hostess led us to our table.

We were seated a few booths away from an older couple. The couple was in the middle of a particularly heated argument. From what I could gather, the old lady was pretty pissed off because her husband had returned from the salad bar and neglected to add broccoli to his creation. Apparently, he needed the iron. Or something. Anyway, she was laying into him like he was a stupid, insolent, misbehaving child.

Before the optimism I gained from our uneventful trip to our table faded, my brother whirled around in his seat to face the older couple. “Goddamn! Who let Cruella DeVille in here?” he howled.

My shoulders sagged and I put my head in my hands. The old lady froze and whispered something viciously quiet to her husband. I could almost hear what they were thinking:

Is he talking to us? No! He can’t be talking to us!

Leaving no doubt in their minds, my brother demanded, “Lady! What gives you the right to dominate that guy’s nut sack?”

The older woman choked on her iced tea and quickly brought a napkin to her lips. The older man ducked his head and turned bright red. Our waitress moped over to our table and vainly tried to distract my brother by asking to take his beverage order. He ignored her completely.

“What next?” he bawled at the old woman, “Are you going to cut off his nuts, enjoy a pleasant meal, and then go kill a unicorn?”

Quietly, I said to our waitress, “I think we’ll be leaving.”

She nodded gratefully.

Our second choice of restaurant featured a beautifully average host and nary an arguing couple in sight. Unfortunately, our waitress was abnormally short of stature. If she measured 4’8, I would have been shocked. I actually pegged her somewhere in the neighborhood of 4’6.

My brother was tickled pink. As she walked towards the kitchen to retrieve our drink order, he mused gleefully, “She looks like a little leprechaun!”

I carefully placed my index finger over my lips. “Keep quiet,” I warned.

A few seconds later, our waitress returned with our beverages. She placed mine on the table first and I thanked her accordingly. Then, she set my brother’s drink in front of him. Suddenly, with lightening quickness, he grabbed her wrist in a vice grip.

“GIVE ME YOUR GOLD, BITCH!” he shrieked.

Sheer terror washed over the face of our poor waitress. “Huh…What?” she stuttered.

“I know the rules!” my brother insisted, “I caught you! Now you’ve got to lead me to your gold!”

I thought she was going to cry. I whipped a $10 out of my pocket and handed it to the waitress. “All we wanted was the soda,” I told her, “Keep the change.”

Then I escorted my brother out of the restaurant.

“Let’s just go home and order a pizza,” I offered.

“Oh come on!” he admonished, “I’m just joking!”

“I know that,” said I, “I’m just not sure the rest of the world knows that. Besides, I’m suddenly in the mood for pizza”

“Fine,” he finally agreed, “But I am totally answering the door when the pizza guy gets there….

….Naked.”

Perhaps I can pay with a credit card and convince the delivery guy to set the pizza by the door, ring the bell, and run like hell.

It’s worth a try.