He looked at the waitress and said, “Separate checks, please. Itemized.”
My brother-in-law’s grin disappeared immediately.
One of the friends actually laughed like Dad was joking. “Come on, Frank.”
Dad stayed standing. “No, let’s do it right. I’m retired now. Fixed income and all.”
The waitress looked relieved, honestly. “I can do that.”
Suddenly the whole table got tense.
The guy who’d “forgotten” his wallet started patting his pockets again. Another one muttered something about maybe having Apple Pay after all. Funny how fast banking problems clear up when the free ride disappears.
My brother-in-law leaned forward lowering his voice. “You really gonna make a scene over dinner?”
Dad looked right at him. “You invited me here planning for me to pay six hundred dollars for your friends’ whiskey. Don’t talk to me about scenes.”
That shut him up.
Then the waitress came back with the itemized receipts.
You could actually watch people’s faces change reading their totals. One friend stared at his slip and said, “How the hell is mine $184?”
Dad adjusted his glasses. “Probably the eighteen-year bourbon you kept recommending to everybody.”
I nearly choked trying not to laugh.
My brother-in-law kept insisting they should “just split it evenly,” but nobody wanted that anymore once the numbers were sitting in front of them in black and white.
In the end, every single guy paid for exactly what he ordered.
Dad paid for his own steak, left the waitress a huge tip, and walked out smiling like he’d been waiting years to do that.
Nobody invited him to another “group birthday dinner” after that.