Stories like this are legendary, but, no shit, this is true. My parents, my brother and I had gone to Triangle Hofbrau restaurant in Richmond Hill, Queens, NY, almost 50 years ago. Someone hadn't finished their meal, and my mother stated that she was going to ask for a "doggy bag" for Penny, our cocker spaniel. I quietly suggested to my little brother that when our mother asked for a "doggy bag," he should say, "Oh goody, we're going to get a dog" and not say another word, no matter what. Needless to say, mom smiled profusely and assured the waiter that we had a dog. My brother grinned and kept his mouth shut, ignoring my mother's pleas for affirmation of dog-ownership. The waiter nodded knowingly. Pop and I enjoyed the show.