The first time was when I was in Chicago in 2003 and a person I knew had her CD "held hostage" by someone who refused to give it back. Very distraught, she was on the phone with this guy literally begging him to return her CD. Hearing her pleas, I asked her for the phone and -- in a very heavy and "turned up" Brooklyn accent -- basically ordered him to bring back the CD, or else. After less than an minute of hearing my Brooklynite-laced threats -- he raced over and personally handed back the CD -- with his hands shaking as he passed it to me through the only sightly cracked open driver's seat window.

Both before and after that incident, I never used my Brooklyn accent either to my advantage -- or just for fun. But last night, when Julie and I went to the Olive Garden for dinner, I mentioned to her before we sat down that if anyone back home knew I was here -- they would curse me out -- because Brooklyn Italians think the Olive Garden is "factory food" as opposed to authentic Italian cuisine. That said, Julie and I thought it would be funny if I "turned up" my Brooklyn accent and made our waiter think that I was some tough Italian guy from Brooklyn just for a few laughs...

...but little did Julie and I know just how far those laughs would go.

Purely as a joke, I asked Brian, our unsespecting waiter when he approached, with a very thick and over-the-top Brooklyn accent, if he could make me "Zuppa Di Mussels" and if he had any Foccachia Bread with some Extra Virgin Olive Oil and Black Pepper to dip it in. Realizing I was Italian and from Brooklyn both from my accent and request -- he, believe it or not -- immediately became very intimidated and said that he would bring over his manager because he, "wanted to make sure that everything would come out perfect." After meeting with the manager and agreeing on Shrimp Marinara, I asked the waiter to bring me a 23-ounce Budweiser on tap. Moments later, he returned and said that there was something wrong with their tap -- and he then handed me a list of their bottled beers -- with his hands shaking just as ferociously as the man's were in Chicago four years earlier. To his relief, I said a bottle of Bud would be fine -- and he brought it in what seemed like a second later.

Realizing that our little Brooklyn joke was going much better than we planned -- and even to the point of ridiculous -- we decided to take it to the next level, just for the Hell of it. Upon bringing the aforementioned bread and dip -- which by the way was not on the menu and something I was not charged for -- I told him that I was in construction and then answered all of his "Soprano-esque" questions -- while including myself in each and every one of the answers.

At one point, after the salad and before the main course, which I told him not to prepare until I said so, I told him that I wanted to take a cigarette break -- and that I would appreciate it if he watched our stuff. To both Julie and my amazement, his answer was, "I will stand right here," meaning at the table. "No, that's ok, go do your job," I said in the same accent. To which he answered, "Nope, I am going to stay right here, sir.". As I was outside smoking my cigarette, Julie could not contain her laughter and thought this whole thing was one of the funniest things she had ever seen. I agreed, but told her that I would leave him a good tip and tell his manager at the end of the meal what a good job he did. I did both of those things, not because he did a good job, which he did, but because he was -- unbeknownst to him -- a very good sport in our spontaneous entertainment, which made for one of the best Italian dinners I have ever had -- even though it was, believe it or not, at the Olive Garden.

Doing this sort of thing is not something I normally do, and Lord knows if or when I will ever do it again -- but for some reason -- I just found it amusing to do last night -- and to be brutally honest -- I had a blast doing it.

Tonight, Julie and I are going to a steak house followed by a day-trip to Washington, D.C. tomorrow and an adventure at the Renaissance Festival on Sunday. But while we plan to have a fantastic time and truly enjoy each other's company -- which we have all week -- I think I will leave my Brooklyn accent behind -- and just be who I really am.

Thanks Brian, you're a good fella.