Serving

Several years ago I found myself in a newly opened small, ethnic restaurant in North Dallas.  It was a Friday afternoon and the restaurant had had a review in the city’s paper that morning; almost guaranteeing that they would be bombarded with customers the entire weekend.  But I was smart, I arrived with my mother and sister, off-peak, in the early afternoon, ready to sample some of the dishes mentioned in the review.  The place looked neat and new, and there was just one other person sitting in a table in the back.  Hurrah for me!!  And then it happened; the barrage of people eager to try out the restaurant.  The restaurant owner was not expecting it.   They had one; just one, yes, just one server, who had to run from table to table to kitchen to table to table to kitchen.  You could see him doing his best, frantic and  smiling as he dashed from one customer to the next, trying to explain the ingredients of each dish as quickly as he could - smiling, huffing and puffing, sweating and smiling, all the time smiling!  And the steady stream of people pouring in, lining up at the tiny entrance, and out the door.  Poof!  There went all my illusions for a great meal.  Poof!  Went my intentions for relaxing and leisurely chatting with my mom.  Poof!  Went the best part of eating out for me – nursing my tea for at least 20 minutes at the end of dinner!  I tried to be irritated, but I couldn’t.  One look at our desperate waiter and any displeasure I might have had turned into pity, and then compassion.  I got up and asked him if I could help.  He looked frazzled.  He laughed, very nervously, and he said no; he couldn’t ask me to do that.  No. But I insisted.  I told him I had been a waitress before and that I would help him serve.  Then he laughed again, this time he didn’t seem so tense, and asked if I was sure.  I was.  I could see immense relief in his face.  He started quickly for the kitchen and told the cook that I was helping.  I took a pad and pen while my mom and sister just smiled and shook their heads. 

This was not the finest or most altruistic moment of my life; but I am grateful that on that day I had an opportunity to serve and serve.