Scenes from Pentecost 12, or Katie's Last Week in Florida, Part I

Sunday, Aug 3

I gave the children's sermon at two services, a "contemporary" and a "traditional". Positive reactions from folks who attended the first slipped utterly away into obscurity when I learned that a woman at the second, who had taught my confirmation class for the better part of a year, was affronted by my appearance in the sanctuary (too casual) and particularly my hat (cf. I Cor 11.6, 13, and 16 you stodgy old coot). I don't think she remembers me.

Monday, Aug 4

Management surprised me by sending some kid in for me to train behind the bar at the Green Iguana. He went by his initials, but I somehow convinced him to tell me his real name. (Kim.) I promptly asked him if he took a lot of shit for that, and he laughed, and I wished that it were always like this, where I can just say whatever comes into my head.

Another server at GI got tired of seeing perfectly good (if partially eaten) hamburger meat go to waste, and decided to collect it for her dog. She labeled a To Go box and set it at the outside service station for collection.
KATIE (clearing a table): Here, N*, I guess you can have this.
N*: Awww, Katie, are you gonna put beef in my box?
KATIE: Yep, I'm gonna put... (notices general laughter among the guys) I hate you all.

Tuesday, Aug 5

I decide to eat Cuban sandwiches all week or until I get sick.

J*: (another server at GI, who DOES THIS, all the time): Katie, do gay people go straight to hell?
R* (before I could answer): Oh, please, we were around before the Bible was.