This last one I feel a little bad about (but only a little).
The first time L’s Mother and I went to Disney World, we ate at a particular place that we’d always said we wanted to go back to someday. So . . . someday finally came around on this last trip, and after our food had arrived, the server (knowing we hadn’t eaten there in years, and had made a special trip to do so this time) asked how everything was.
“Well,” I sighed, “I’m going to have to be ‘that guy,’ I’m afraid, because, honestly, the food isn’t as good as I remember.”
The server looked absolutely crushed at this (which is why I feel a little bad), so I followed up with my planned joke as quickly as possible.
“It’s better,” I chuckled.
(For the record, I was forgiven by the server for this.)