I’ve stopped going out to eat with my family, because variations of the following will always happen:

Brother: *To our waiter.* “I want [only spicy thing on the menu], but I want it not spicy.”

Waiter: “Sir, the flavor of that dish only comes from the spices. It won’t taste good as a non-spicy version.

Brother: “Could you use the spicy spices but make it not spicy?”

Mom: *Butting in.* “I want the garlic rolls, but no garlic taste.”

Me: “Mom, they have regular rolls. They’re the same thing minus the garlic.”

Mom: “No, they’re not as good as the garlic rolls.”

Me: “Yeah, maybe because they don’t have garlic, but they’re still the same rolls.”

They put in their ill-advised orders anyway, and then:

Brother: “I ordered this to not be spicy! It’s spicy!”

Mom: “And my rolls still taste like garlic!”

I dive in and take a bit of both.

Me: “You guys are being delusional. There’s no spice or garlic in either of those.”

Mom: *To me, quietly.* “Shush! This is how we get something comped off the bill!”

Me: *Loudly, so the waiter can hear.* “What’s that, mom?! You ordered something impossible just so you could complain about it and force the restaurant to offer a discount?! That’s so underhanded! It would be a shame if the poor waiter got into trouble with the manager for such shenanigans!”

Mom: “That’s it! I’m never going out to a restaurant with you again!”

Me: “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

I realize it was not my choice to be born into this family, but I am still very ashamed of it.

Related:
The Spice Must Flow, Part 2
The Spice Must Flow