My sister and I have been joking about how much more enjoyable of a world it is that my brother lives in compared to the one we live in. I’d say this is true 9 times out of 10. This past weekend I experienced the 1 time when it’s more enjoyable to be in my world witnessing his.

I spent the weekend in VA visiting the family. We went into the District on Saturday afternoon to check out the Newseum. Afterwards, we stopped at one of the nicer hotels near the White House for a cocktail before heading back out to Reston for dinner. Just to set the scene, below is a picture of the actual bar/lounge area, which you can see is pretty nice.

We sat down and before long the waiter came by to take our drink order. Gamma orders her usual Maker’s, Dad gets white wine, ESM orders a Cosmo and I get a Kettle One. Lance was the last to order, and we all expected him to ask for Coke, maybe a Dr. Pepper. With the seriousness of a crotchety old man who is about to order a Scotch, my brother says, “I’ll have a Buttery Nipple”. It took all I had not to spit out the handful of peanuts I just put in my mouth. I immediately put my hand over my eyes, because I couldn’t face seeing the reaction on the poor waiter’s face.

After a few minutes the waiter comes back with everyone’s drink, except Lance’s. To make matters worse, he has to ask Lance, “What exactly is in a Buttery Nipple”? I decide to take charge and overrule Lance’s order. I tell him to just bring a Bailey’s or White Russian. Lance’s ridiculous metabolism could pull off the habit of drinking either of those on a regular basis. So, why not go Dude style?

Unfortunately, Lance had no idea why the whole incident was so funny. He was actually a little perturbed that we were giving him such a hard time and that he couldn’t have his Buttery Nipple. I told him to save those for when the waiters/bartenders aren’t wearing suits.