A few years ago my wife and I had been attending a church for about six months and we decided to transfer our membership. After attending the new member’s class we were ready to join. A chaplain colleague and his wife attended the same church and they agreed to be our sponsors and stand up with us on that Sunday.
After the service he suggested that we go out for breakfast and, after some debate about who would pay, he made it clear that it was his treat. So off we went to a popular restaurant a short distance away, and after a brief wait, were escorted to a large round booth in the back. We settled in, studied the menu, and unanimously opted for the scrumptious breakfast entrees. Then we began discussing what was going on in our lives and with our families.
We were getting hungrier by the minute and a little impatient when we spied the waiter coming toward us with a rather large tray balanced on one hand and his portable tray table in the other. I am always amazed at how the wait staff handles large orders in a busy restaurant. They either have big trays or plates lined up and down their arm. I was happy my dishes were on a tray.
As he was maneuvering the table with his left hand to get it in position for accepting the large tray, his body slightly twisted. When he did this, his right hand tilted forward just a bit. He tried to correct the tilt but that is nearly impossible with such a heavy load. Suddenly everything appeared to move in slow motion. I saw the tray tip in my direction. Then it hit. All four breakfast orders came sliding off the tray and into my chest and lap. Keep in mind we are talking about eggs, grits, pancakes, waffles, and all that goes with them. My blue blazer was folded on the seat beside me but it did not escape the onslaught of food. I could only sit and accept my fate.
I looked up and very calmly said, “Like I told you, Danny, breakfast is on me!” It seemed that everyone around breathed a little sigh of relief as they laughed nervously.