I was nervous. Not the kind of nervous that happens before taking a test or before executing a performance, more like a what-if-I-get-caught-nervous.
Earlier that night, I arrived at BJ’s Restaurant and Brewhouse with a plan. I was going to pretend it was my birthday and get some perks along the way. I had heard customers receive a free pizookie and this became my motivation.
I knew that lying about my birthday to get free dessert was dishonest and wrong, but for the purposes of this story, it had to be done.
I arrived in the restaurant with my brother on Sunday evening. After a short wait, we were seated in a table next to a TV playing the Warriors-Blazers game. The game was good and so was the food, but what I really wanted to know was what I was going to get for my “birthday.”
My brother made it subtly clear to our waitress that it was my birthday and all of a sudden I was nervous. What if she asked me if it was my birthday? I would have to lie, that was obvious. But what if she asked for my ID? I hadn’t thought of that before.
With awkward tension building, I could feel my face turn red almost to the point of perspiring, but she left. I was confused and didn’t know what was going on.
She came back a few minutes later with a mini-Pizookie, BJ’s famous dessert of a pizza-sized cookie with vanilla ice cream on top. The waitress put the dessert down, said “Happy Birthday” and that was that. We ate the dessert (it was delicious) and left.
This is not the end of the story, however; it is only part one and the sequel proved to be the real test. The following Friday, my brother and I were back. We sat pretty close to where we were seated a few days ago. Tonight, the Warriors were matched up with the New Jersey Nets.
This night would end much like the game; the Warriors were up early and kept that lead up until the fourth. The night was going pretty well, the food was good and the atmosphere was terrific. But, like the Warriors in the fourth, who would eventually lose in a heartbreaking match, my night would end similarly.
In a similar fashion to the night earlier in the week, I was nervous. The waiter had come over to collect the empty dishes and my brother had said it was my birthday once again.
I tried to smile, I tried to act calm, but then the waiter asked for my ID. Thus began one of the most awkward situations of my life. I probably stared at him for a couple of seconds, but it felt like minutes before I said I had forgotten it at home.
After I had finished this experiment, I went back to BJ’s to repay them for the one mini-pizookie that I did end up getting.