Casey, the Restaurant-Cursed

I do not consider myself a superstitious man. I am not even sure I believe the Chicago Cubs are cursed so much as a poorly-run organization. What I do believe, however, is that I have a massive restaurant curse. I think this is what motivates me to do a good job at work on the slowest night. I would hate to contribute to somebody else's restaurant curse.

You do not know what a restaurant curse is? I will give three examples before I tell my story from last night.

1) The Waffle House has been out of Coke twice and unable to make waffles another time.
2) I was once with Tal and Garrett, both of who took 5 minutes to order their food. I ordered mine, which came 10 minutes late and was a completely different menu item.
3) The only place this curse does not exist is the famed Jackson's Bar and Bistro; which is a good part of why I eat there almost exclusively.

So there I was last night, hanging with my buddy Jim, at the aforementioned Waffle House, grabbing some late-night single guy Thanksgiving dinner. Well, it was only about 20 minutes before somebody came over to our table to help us, which is pretty much par for the course. I ordered my standard: hash browns, coffee and a chocolate chip waffle. Jim ordered some hash browns and texas toast.

Well, the hash browns and Jim's texas toast came out after a few minutes and I smiled at Jim, reminding him of my famed curse.

About 10 minutes later, one of the cooks looked over at me: "You wanted your waffle to be extra crispy, right?" Oh yeah, absolutely, you read my mind. If you could just cook that till its a frisbee and I could take it home to my dog that would be even better.

Then the coffee. I could see that there was an entire fresh pot of it staring me right in my face, and yet nothing in front of me. Finally I had to ask for a cup. Two times ordering the same thing? That presents no problem for a man who spends his life under a restaurant curse.

Then it happened. A cook decided to wash some dishes, which is a rare occurrence, indeed. So rare, apparently, that they are not trained on proper dishwashing procedure. Probably the first rule is that you should not HIT CUSTOMERS IN THE FACE WITH DISHWATER!!!!

That's right, dear reader, I got sprayed directly in the face with Waffle House dishwater. After a long, extended period of silence, I called our waitress over and explained the situation. Happily, we were absolved from paying for our meal. It was a good thing because I may have pulled a Kid-Rock if that was not offered.

In a world where everything seems cursed (because, in a way it is...Genesis 3:15), even these funny reminders are good to have because they point me back to the fact that I follow the One who broke the curse. More than that, he disarmed the law, sin and death. I can take bad service every now and again.