This is a true story. The numbers have been changed to protect the innocent.
You wouldn't think that lunch with friends #2.1, 3.3333, 4.5, and 7.007 would cause much drama, given that our average age is 42. We went to the quiet Italian place by work to eat, vent, celebrate projects that are finished, flirt with the waiter, and so on. At one point we noticed there was a brass plaque by our table that read:
I'm reserved, I said, no one ever gave me a plaque. We speculated Robert Taylor might be the drummer for Duran Duran. Friend #2.1, or Hot Mom, proved her cool by knowing that's Roger Taylor. We asked the waiter to find out and get back to us, but instead he let it slip that the restaurant was going out of business. (Or he may have been encouraging us to leave when he said "This place is closing Tuesday.")
We said "awww."
In one motion Hot Mom whipped out her Swiss Army Knife and opened it to the screwdriver. "Quick, get that plaque," she demanded to Sainted Mormon Friend #7.007. We all laughed, the waiter left, and Hot Mom (whom I witness had only iced tea with lemon) swapped places with the Mormon and started coolly unscrewing the plaque from the wall. I can't give you a more accurate description because we were all pointedly staring away from her so as not to attract attention.
She got one screw entirely out and dropped it casually on the table. She was working on the remaining screw when the only other restaurant patron got up, turned to leave, and stared at her with disbelief. Then he came over.
"What are you doing to that plaque?"
We all laughed, because we were busted, but he'd come over instead of alerting the management.
"Ha! Who wants to know?"
"That's my plaque. I'm Robert Taylor."
"Oh you LIE!" we chorused, because obviously if he had been Robert Taylor, he would have been at his table instead of us. But it would seem flirty waiter is unclear on what the word "Reserved" means, because let me tell you, that Robert Taylor is a really cool guy. He's not reserved at all, either, he talked to us for about half an hour.
Hot Mom screwed the plaque back in, but Robert Taylor let it be known that he has another plaque at Yellowstone Cafe. We might have to go looking for him again.