Are You Brothers?

A restaurant, breakfast, before the vacation.
“Are you brothers?”
No, we are married.

(A restaurant, dinner, a birthday.
“Are you brothers?”
No, we are married.)

The airport, checking in.
“Are you brothers?”
No, we are married.

(A dining car, our honeymoon.
“Are you brothers?”
No. We are married.)

An airport, flight canceled.
“Are you brothers?”
No. Are there any other flights we can take instead?

(A restaurant.
“Are you brothers?”
Just one check please.)

An airport, another flight canceled.
“Are you brothers?”
No. We’re married. How close can we get to our destination today?

(Walking the dog.
“Are you brothers?”
No.)

An airport, midnight, the wrong city.
“Are you brothers?”
No. We’re married. Which hotel are you sending us to?

(Finding a new vet.
“Are you brothers?”
No. We’re married.)

Renting a car, nearly midnight.
“Are you brothers?”
No. I don’t drive.

(In a store.
On the street.
On vacation.
Out shopping.
Dog parks.
New neighbors.)
“Are you brothers?”

No.

We are
(just trying to eat)
(just walking our dog)
(just existing)
(deciding if this is worth it)
(considering your body language)
(wondering what your cross means)
(saw the Conservative sign on your yard)
(judging the crowd)
(unsure how you will react)
(potentially in danger)
(checking for an exit)
(checking for a friendly face)
(so goddamn exhausted)
married.

A fast-food restaurant in the middle of Louisiana.
“Y’all are twins, right?”
A table of men, staring.
“Y’all are twins, right?”
Guns on racks.
“Y’all are twins, right?”
Guns on belts.

Yes.

Yes, ma’am, we are.

Oh, and, ma’am?

Could we get this to go?