So, Raoul and I walk into the restaurant at the Ottoman Imperial hotel in Istanbul for the complimentary breakfast. The maitre d' approaches me with a checklist. "Room number?" he asks, and I say 601. He finds it on the checklist and crosses it off.

Then he turns to Raoul and seems to await a response. When nothing comes, he asks, "Are you two together?"

Let's see. We're two middle aged white Americans of approximately the same age, with similar builds and beards. We walked in together. We were talking.

Do we need to wear matching tank tops for you dudes to put it together?

As we head to our table, I add another item to my bucket list. I want to open my own restaurant. I'll welcome the men with open arms, then turn to their wives and say, with a distasteful glare, "Oh. Are you with her?"