"May I Take Your Beverage Order?"

We're back... Home again from a quick and very relaxing few days literally soaking in the sun at Ft. Myers Beach...about a two and a half hour drive south of our St. Petersburg home. To say it is unusually hot here in central Florida is like suggesting that McDonalds merely serves hamburgers. The day time high temperatures have been averaging 96 degrees with a heat index of 105! Judi and I can attest, as we spent the better part of three days dividing our time between lathering on copious amounts of sunscreen and washing it off again and again when we sought relief from the oppresive heat in the pool. I know...it was a taxing assignment, but somebody had to do it.

Aside from just lolling away the hours beside and in the pool, there were a few other incidents that yours truly, the ever careful observer of the human condition, took note of. In this installment I relay what transpired when Judi and I made the decision to go foraging for breakfast late Sunday morning. A couple of other human interest stories (so to speak) I'll relay in an up-coming post.

After about a ten minute drive we happened upon a storefront establishment entitled The Island Pancake Cafe. Consisting of two smallish rooms with perhaps twenty tables and a kitchen so small that you had to go outside in order to change your mind, it was packed to the gills with customers who all appeared to be noticeably irritated at the lack of service they were receiving. Seating ourselves at a vacant table, we soon learned the reason for their peevishness. Sailing into the room where we found an available table came a wisp of a young woman who announced to the patrons seated directly behind us, "Don't ask for anything special or anything quick! I'm it! I'm the only waitress working!" And she turned and disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared, leaving a couple dozen very hungry customers wondering what do think or do next.

As aside before I continue with the story... My wife Judi loves to eat. I don't mean at all that she spends her every waking moment consuming large quantities of food just because its readily accessible. I mean she loves good food and especially the opportunity to do so whenever we eat out. She lives to eat. I, on the other hand, eat to live. This vast difference in approach becomes glaringly apparent when a menu is presented to her for her perusal, an exercise she embraces with a determination not unlike a scientist trying to unlock the DNA secrets of a prehistoric caveman. We could frequent an eating establishment as innocuous as Bert's House Of Toast, where the only two selections are wheat or rye, and Judi is always going to need a few extra minutes in order to make up her mind. Going to any restaurant that offers pages of potentially enticing selections, and we're talking gridlock! I base my selections primarily on the nice pictures. If it looks good presented in a four color, hi-gloss format, I figure it can't kill me. I'll give it a whirl. Judi is still reading the fine print long after I've decided that two eggs. over light with white toast and a side of pancakes will see me nicely through until lunch...probably at the same establishment.

Back to the story... Within two minutes of my having first flipped open the menu, I had made my breakfast food selection (See above...). Judi (try not to be shocked) was once again pouring over the menu with her usual intensity, whereupon I decided, based on the waitress's frantic announcement of exasperation, to leave Judi to her in-depth menu dissection. I retired to the outside to partake of a few additional puffs of my morning cigar. This is where I meet Louis, a gentleman of apparent Cuban decent, who was one of the individuals occupying the table directly behind ours, and who had been the recipient of the waitress's tirade. The first words out of his mouth were, as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette, "This is Father's day and all that woman does is nag, nag, nag." What is a person suppose to do with that comment? I resorted to my old stand by..."Where you from?" Figured this would get him off on another more palatable track, one that I would hopefully have a ghost of chance of not having to either defend the entire male chauvinistic race, or disparage the other remaining half of the human equation. It worked. We introduced ourselves...said he was from Miami...hated it with a passion there...liked the laid back life style of this neck of the woods...and proceeded to present me with an abridged Reader's Digest version of his family tree...which didn't include the lady to whom he had disparagingly remarked. That was his "girlfriend" of ten years, who he was giving odds would not be so by the time the sun set later that same day. After enduring his unquenchable tirade for 15 minutes, he shook my hand and hoped that I, at least, would have a Happy Father's Day. I assured him that I would give it my best shot.

Re-entering the restaurant and seating myself at our table, Judi was nowhere to be found. I assumed that she had excused herself to visit the lady's room. Hardly... Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Judi in the next room talking with a group of seated, waiting customers. Then she moved on to the next table. Then a third. Knowing and loving Judi, as I most certainly do, I assumed that she was working the room, she being able to easily engage total strangers in conversation that would eventually have that person reveal his or her entire life history, employment status, bank statement and their social security number. That's when I observed that she had a pen and a small slip of paper in her hand and she was writing something down. It turned out that she was taking drink orders for each of the tables she visited. A few moments later, back she came with their orders of water, orange juice and coffee. She worked both rooms and got all of the orders correct, including mine, and then off she dashed to re-visit each table to supply re-fills to all who requested same. Judi, with no prior experience at waiting tables, had assessed a trying situation for this poor, overwhelmed waitress and marched herself up to the cook (also the owner) and asked if she could help. He emphatically said "No!," but she persisted and he relented. A restaurant that had mere minutes before been filled to capacity with very irate customers, now was an oasis of tranquility. A simple act of kindness on Judi's part had hopefully imparted to all who fell under her spell of genuine consideration that the remaining day would be one of promise of good will to follow. I as very proud of her and she, rightfully so, was proud that she had been so bold in not just wanting to help, but to indeed be of help. Some times just a well placed smile will save a day. Some times an unselfish act of kindness will change a person forever. I am sure the little waitress was more than appreciative of Judi's intervention into her day...and she will find a future opportunity to play it forward for some other person in search of a kind word, or in need of a friendly smile, or a random act of unselfish kindness.

As for the cook...he never expressed even a look of appreciation, much less a work of thanks. That's okay. I told him his eggs were too runny!

Next up...the Alpha and Omega, the Yin and the Yang of a few people who populated the pool at our motel. There are just some folks who should not be let out into public without being under close personal supervision.