November 2 – “The Waitress”

After church today we went to a local restaurant with our family and some friends.  The food was great, but this place is known for its unbelievable pies.  So after wading through my chicken fried steak and two refills of sweet tea, I was ready to try some key lime pie.  Others were talking about apple or chocolate or some hybrid or other, but I really wanted key lime pie.  Finally, our waitress asked the inevitable question, "Did anyone leave room for dessert?"  "Key lime pie!" I immediately responded.  A brief pause was followed by, "We don't have that today."  OK, I was momentarily crushed, and I'm sure it showed on my face.  Someone else ordered chocolate peanut butter, as did another and another.  Chocolate peanut butter seemed to be the choice of the day.  But I don't particularly like Reese's peanut butter cups disguised as a piece of pie.  She got back to me again and asked, "What would you like?"  "Key lime pie is what I would like," I said.  "We don't have that," she replied sweetly.  "I know," I said, "but that's what I want.  I guess I'll take chocolate, but not chocolate peanut butter."  Now, I thought I was being pretty polite, considering they didn't have key lime pie.  She thought …   She left to turn in our order, and returned seconds later with more bad news.  Four or five of our company had ordered chocolate peanut butter pie, and, you guessed it, "We are out."  That didn't seem to be a huge problem for most of them.  They just chose something else.  But not Christi.  She doesn't like pie – except for chocolate peanut butter.  It's the only kind she will eat.  She explained her personal dilemma to the waitress, who was understanding, but still the fact remained, "We don't have it."  Christi finally asked, "Can I have a voucher that says 'Good for one piece of chocolate peanut butter pie'?"  "What's the deal?" asked the waitress, "Is Daddy buying today and you want to make sure you get in under that ticket?"  Christi's answer was classic.  "Yes.  That and I'm pregnant and it's kind of a craving."  She pulled the pregnant card!  And it worked.  The waitress went to her manager, who returned with a gift certificate for a piece of pie.  She asked where Hubby was, and said to Josh, "You better get her in here and get her that piece of pie."  Then she said, "And you parents, don't you think you should order this pregnant lady a whole chocolate peanut butter pie for Thanksgiving?"    The waitress came back shortly with our checks.  She looked around and said, "Where's Dad?  This is for him."  He was not at the table, so Christi's brother said, "I'll give it to him."  "You're not going to try to pay it, are you?  Because he said he would pay it."  Jonathan's answer?  "On, no.  Don't worry about that."   Just when it seemed that our fun was coming to an end, my mom called the waitress over to her and said, "Did you know there are two preachers at this table?"  Now, I know Mom is proud of me and all, but sometimes the whole preacher thing bothers me.  So I jumped in and challenged the waitress, "See if you can guess which two." "OK, Key Lime … Him (She pointed to Christi's Dad, a commercial real estate appraiser), and Him (This time it was Cary, a good friend who fills in as Zak's grandfather when we are not around)."  Both were horrified.  Josh and I were delighted. "Wrong." "Well, I'm sure it's not this one (pointing to me!).  If it is, God help me." "It is." She threw up her hands, we all had yet another good laugh, and she left.  Before we left her manager joked with us about the preacher discovery.  "But I got her to pray," I explained.  "She did say, 'God help me.'"  The manager patted our waitress on the back as she walked by and said, "If you got her to pray, I salute you."  As we left the restaurant, laughing and waving and actually hugging our waitress, Josh whispered to me, a bit sarcastically, "Thanks, Dad, for setting me up to actually minister in my community."   Sorry for the length of this play by play of our lunch.  But I had two thoughts this afternoon.  One was, "Would your waitress guess you were a Christian by how you related to her last time you went out to eat?"  The other was, "How are you 'set up' for the next time you go into your favorite restaurant?"   In Matthew 7, Jesus warned against false prophets, and the principle can be extended a bit here: "By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit."   Father, change my fruit.  I know that also means change me, but that's too hard to say.  Amen.