Last we went out to eat at the Macaroni Grill with my parents. All was going well until the waitress came to our table to tell my mom (who had ordered spaghetti with meat sauce) that they were OUT OF SPAGHETTI. At the Macaroni Grill. No spaghetti. We all laughed a bit and my mom decided to substitute penne for spaghetti. Great, no big deal. But my Dad (Mr. Freaking TYPE A) wouldn't let it go AND he was on his fourth glass of chianti. When the poor waitress brought our check, my dad asked her to sit down at our table and proceeded to say to her, "running out of spaghetti at an italian restaurant is a lot like showering with your underwear on, what's the point? Am I right?" I wish you could have seen this girl's face. I think wearing size 2 leather pants with 5 inch stilettos would have been more comfortable.