Methodist on the Sidewalk and the Midget Giraffe

                                                       Unrestrained Travis

 

Act I: The Methodist on the Sidewalk

The Warning We were all dressed in our funeral best—looking less like a grieving family and more like a local band that had just lost its lead singer. I looked at Travis and gave him "The Talk." “Travis, just behave for today.” He didn’t even blink. “I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.”

The Crime Scene As we walked up to the Apple Barrel, a guy from the Subway next door was out on the sidewalk with a massive industrial mop. Travis stopped dead. “Is that how you get rid of unwanted customers?” The guy looked up, exhausted. “No. It was here when I came to work. No idea what happened.” Travis walked into the café and announced to the table, “Did you see all that blood? That guy is mopping up huge puddles of it.”

The Methodist Mistake Our waitress, Jennifer, came over to set out the water. Travis didn't waste a second. “What happened out there?” “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m hoping an elk got hit by a car and stumbled onto the sidewalk.” “I don’t think it was an elk,” Travis said solemnly. “I think it was more like a Methodist.”

The waitress froze, then started laughing as she set the glasses down. I felt the heat rise in my face. That is so rude! I tried to fix it. “You have to forgive him,” I said quickly. “He’s been living in Mormon country too long.” (The second the words left my mouth, I realized I’d just doubled down on the religious commentary. I was making it worse.)

The waitress was howling now. “I’ll have to remember that one!” Travis leaned in, deadpan. “A Methodist is a Meth-Head.” Wow. There it was.

The Midget Giraffe By the time the coffee arrived, the waitress was part of the family. Travis told her he didn't need sugar because he was "too sweet." “Is that too sweet or too fluffy?” she shot back. “You have a point,” Travis conceded. “That I do,” she winked. “BUT,” Travis added, “if you wear a hat, no one will notice.”

We tried to take a group photo. I told my daughter, Brandy, to act like she knew him. She tried to put her arm behind his back and failed. “No devil horns!” Travis warned. “I’m trying!” Brandy yelled. “I can’t reach! Your head is too big!” Travis didn't skip a beat. “My head only looks big because my shoulders are narrow, my neck is skinny, and I’m too short for my height.” Jennifer the waitress passed by with a tray and didn't even slow down: “Oh, so you’re saying you’re a midget giraffe?”

Act II: The Circus Audience

The Scrutiny While we were howling over the "midget giraffe" comment, I noticed a young man from the back of the kitchen. He had come out and rested his hands on his chin, just staring at our table. He wasn't working; he was just watching us like he was at the circus and we were the clowns. I couldn't even be mad—we were the clowns.

The Group Photo Travis, never one to miss a beat, asked Jennifer, “Would you mind taking a picture of all of us?” “Sure,” she said, grabbing the phone and taking several angles. “You’re really good at this,” Travis complimented her. Jennifer didn't even smile. “No, I was just trying to get your whole big head in the frame while keeping the shine off your bald spot.”

The "Mental Hospital" Alibi We were halfway through our eggs when Travis decided to take it up a notch. “Seriously,” he said to Jennifer, “I just got out...” Jennifer interrupted him mid-sentence. “What, did they keep you in a deep, dark hole?” “Well, same thing,” Travis deadpanned. “It felt like prison.”

I decided to help him out. I leaned in and whispered quietly to her, “Mental Hospital... we have to have him back by 4:00. Just keep the sharp utensils away from him.” Travis didn't miss a beat. He crossed his arms over his chest like he was in a straightjacket. “I just love those special jackets they make us wear! That’s why my arms are flailing all around so much now—they aren’t used to being free!” and he waved his arms frantically for emphasis.

The 4.7 Star Review As we were finishing up, Travis said, “We noticed you all have 4.7 stars online and they said you have a great, friendly staff.” “Wow, that’s awesome, thank you!” Jennifer said, genuinely proud. Travis looked around the empty air. “So... where are they? Is this their day off?” Jennifer just pointed to the guy behind the counter. “They are one of us! This is awesome!”   

We survived breakfast without being committed, but then Travis introduced the boys to the 'art' of the Peasant Hunt. The Chaos continues here.