Lobster, Anyone?

Whoever says we don't have problems as a human race has never waited tables. Sometimes I forget this simple principle. Those days are known as "off days". Normally it only takes me an hour or so of steak-slinging to be reminded of our sin-shriveled society. Last night it took me until I got the pleasure of waiting on a man sitting by himself. I'll call him "Mr. Davis", ok? Great. Here goes.

As I approached Mr. Davis' table I had to know I was about to be reminded of our plight as the sons of Adam. He seemed pleasant enough for being a slightly unbalanced, rather large creature. The first thing he did was to order a double vodka and a splash of diet coke. "Sir, do you have a vodka preference?" What a rookie question.

So I returned to his table armed with his magic potion.

"What'll it be man?" (sometimes I speak in more familiar terms if I feel it will improve my tip)

"You mean sir!"

"...ok...what will it be...sir?" (bewildered by the fact that I had misread him)

"Yes, I am sir, not ma'am!"

"Ok sir, I actually call you 'man', not 'ma'am'. I am not quite that far gone."

If I didn't realize who I was dealing with before this little interaction, I certainly had a better idea from this point on. My guy was just a bit off. The good news was that he wanted a whole lobster for dinner. This makes me happy at 30 bucks a pound, so who's complaining, right?

Well, I started a salad for Mr. Davis, who also asked for another double vodka, which I was happy to bring him. The first double vodka didn't seem to do too much damage to him, and since he was already a bit strange, I figured he would be alright for another drink.

About two sips into that second drink I could tell that Mr. Davis was not entirely aware of his own limits. With his salad strewn all about his table and his arms moving with all the skill and dexterity of a T-Rex, Mr. Davis was starting to look like Otis Campbell from the Andy Griffith Show.

Once he was finished with his salad, I cleaned off his table and assured him that his lobster was on its way out and went about serving the rest of my tables. A few minutes later I saw my friend Jaime (Hispanic name pronounced "HI-May") standing next to Mr. Davis' table with a bewildered look about him, holding a plate full of lobster in his hand.

As I approached the table, I started to have my own doubts. Why was Jaime still standing there holding the plate? Why did the plate look like it was about a half a lobster too light? Why was there no lobster tail on said plate?

All these questions were answered when I turned by attention to by inebriated guest. His mouth was full. That's right, full of an entire 1/2 pound lobster tail.

Mr. Davis could not wait for another person to literally put down the plate before he needed to eat. And if you've had the pleasure of eating lobster before, you know how extremely rich the meat is- and how horribly disgusting it must be to eat an entire lobster tail in one bite.

I can't put my finger on it more than to say that Mr. Davis is a son of Adam just like you and I. If this guy doesn't point out our need for a Savior, I don't know who will.