So, you slid in under the wire, did you? You managed to stick your foot in the door at 10:59:59, did you? You certainly are a slick one, I’ll tell you that.

I’ll tell you what else you are, just in case you are not aware of it. Consider it a public service. You, my friend, are a nincompoop. Of the highest order. Do I even need to tell you that I, and the rest of the serving community-at-large, have no patience for nincompoops?

If you are an overachieving nincompoop, one who wants to, say, graduate to nitwit in a relatively short amount of time, here are just a few of the behaviors that you absolutely must engage in should you seize an opportunity to be seated in a closed restaurant.

You’ll need ten points. Walking in the door just as it was being locked? You’ve already earned one point! I suspect that collecting the other nine won’t present a problem for a nincompoop like you!

Promise to “be quick”. (1 point)

Because this is the battle cry of the latecomer, it is only worth one point. Still, a point is a point.

Ask at least two questions pertaining to salad. (1 point)

It’s salad. What more do you need to know? Sadly, every nincompoop we come into contact with DURING OUR REGULAR BUSINESS HOURS asks ridiculous questions about salad. You don’t get extra points for your late arrival. For those of you who cannot even formulate a question, but are still stumped by salad, let me give you a head start. Try the most ridiculous question first: “Does it have lettuce in it?”

Comment on the noise level. (2 points)

WHY, YES, IT IS LOUD IN HERE! This may be the result of you being the only human occupying such a cavernous space. This one is worth a whopping two points because only a nincompoop with zero grasp of elementary school science would be surprised by this. Consider these points a gift and a testament to my compassionate nature. I do feel terrible for someone who barely made it out of the fifth grade.

Require an explanation of meat (or poultry). (3 points)

Chicken comes, oddly enough, from chickens. The other two choices that are available at most American restaurants — beef and pork — are a little trickier, I’ll give you that. Still, even a nincompoop who is well on his way to becoming a nitwit, such as yourself, should be able to work through this one. If you can’t, though, good for you! It’s worth three whole points. Cows provide us with beef; pigs with pork. It is a crying shame that you cannot, at your age, identify the animals which have given their lives to sustain you — a person who wanders through life in such an oblivious manner. If there is such a thing as karma, and I am optimistic that there is, you can look forward to death by stampede. Yee-Ha!

Ask what is “fresh”. (3 points)

We are CLOSED. Nothing is “fresh”. Frankly, nothing was “fresh” when we opened. Did you see a vegetable garden when you pulled into the parking lot — a parking lot that borders a major highway? How about a pond? Or a corral? The only thing “fresh” is going to be your server if you don’t snap to it and order already!

Order everything “well done”. (4 points, plus 2 “bonus” points for sending it back because it is overcooked!)

This one is worth a lot of points because it is already behavior befitting a nitwit. Of course you want a well done 30-ounce slab of beef. Of course you do. Without fail, and every server on the planet sees this coming, it will be “too” well done for you. Congratulations! Please reward yourself with two bonus points. Well done!

Order dessert. (5 points)

Only a nincompoop just points away from being a nitwit would order dessert from a server and a kitchen staff that they are, effectively, holding hostage an hour-and-a-half AFTER said restaurant has closed for the evening. We were ready for you, though. There’s a piece of cheesecake that we’ve been trying to unload since 1995. That baby has your name written all over it. Bon Apetit!

Those ten points weren’t too hard to earn, were they? You sure are on a roll! Why stop at nitwit, though? Especially now. If my math is correct, and I’m fairly certain that it is (I’m NO nitwit!), you are already well on your way, following tonight’s shenanigans, to becoming an asshat. I’ll have to check the paperwork, but I think you’ll need fifteen points for that one. It sounds like a lot, but I think you’re just the nitwit for the job.

Let me get you started by making the following helpful suggestion: Be the first one at the Starbuck’s tomorrow. Arrive at 6:48 AM. Make sure you bang loudly on the door to alert them to your presence. (Encountering a newly-crowned nitwit is every coffee shop workers dream at the crack of dawn!) I daresay that your local barista will be delighted to award you bonus points for pressing your nose up to the glass and miming that you want coffee. She’s probably never seen that before!

I’ll alert the asshats to get your membership card ready.