Drive-Thru

John was a firm believer in keeping the sabbath day holy. No work, and no making other people work. However, John was also a firm believer that being hungry was the worst feeling ever. The seven bucks he had in his wallet beckoned to him. All he could think about during the last minutes of church was how amazing the In-N-Out cheeseburger he was going to buy later would taste as he chomped into it savoring every crunch of lettuce and every drip of melting cheese.

John's stomache grumbled. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time (5:30) and more honestly to check his text messages. One new message from Lee.

Hey John, you should come hang out at my place tonight and invite some cool people too since I don't have anyone's number.

John arrived at Lee's to the smell of brownies baking in the oven. The Lord works in mysterious ways; conversely the devil is pretty much straightforward in his works. John had sworn of sugar just a day or two ago. This was definitely a trial of his faith.

Inbetween friends coming and going, watching a movie, a few episodes of Man Vs. Wild, and lots of text messaging John realized the hour of his freedom would shortly come. The seconds seemed to slow down to minutes and the minutes to hours as he watched the clock tick from 11:50 to 12:00.

Finally 12:00 arrived. The hour of John's deliverance. It was now officially Monday.

John excused himself, walked out the door, strapped on his helmet, and started his motorcycle. As soon as he hit the gas John felt a drop of moisture hit his hand. Looking up he felt more drops, increasing in size and frequency, fall on his face. As he rode on his determination dropped along with his stomach. The sky was now fully relieving itself on him. John faced a serious choice; either continue on to In-N-Out and inevitably die on the slick, wet road, or turn back home and admit defeat.

Deciding that being hungry was better than being dead John turned around and rode back towards home. On the way, however, John's pride caused him to second guess his choice and he came upon a compromise. There was a Jack-In-The-Box just down the street from his house. "I'll go there, it won't take long and I'll get back fine."

John pulled into the drive-thru. A semi-annoying, generic teenage girl voice rang through the speaker.

"Welcome to Jack-In-The-Box! May I take your order?"

"Yeah, do you guys have any salads? I know sometimes at this time you're out of 'em."

"What do you want?

"I want a salad."

"Which one do you want?"

John's clothes were now beginning to saturate with rain so he chose the salad corresponding to the biggest picture on the menu in front of him.

"Ok, I'll take a Bacon Ranch salad with..."

"We're all out of that one."

"Ok, well which ones do you have?"

"We only have the Santa Fe Chicken Salad."

"Well alright, I guess I'll take that one then."

"Do you want grilled or crispy chicken?

"I'll take grilled."

"We only have crispy."

"Well alright, I guess I'll take crispy then!" The frustration in John's voice was no readily apparent.

"Alright sir, your total will be six fifty-five at the window."

John pulled up to the window, retrieved his salad, packed it under his seat, and rode on back home soaking wet, tired, and annoyed. As John pulled into his driveway he put his kick-stand down, hopped off his bike, and opened his garage door. As soon as John went back for his motorcycle, grabbing it by the handles to walk it into the dry safety of the garage, he realized it had just stopped raining. In his anger he kicked a puddle. Johns leg slipped from under him on the slick concrete and he fell on his back landing in the shallow pool of water that had only a few seconds ago been beneath his feet. Luckily the kick-stand on his bike had kept it from landing on top of him. John thought to himself, "God must really hate me right now." As a seal of approval for John's thought-process, a single drop of rain fell from the heavens and landed on his forehead.