Andrew Jackson...


A twenty dollar bill and 4 singles are stuffed in my pocket as I pull up to the window at Dunkin' Donuts. I'm able to justify spending 3 bucks on a large Vanilla Latte at the donut shop rather than 5 bucks at Starbucks. This gives my guilt acquittal and allows me to sleep at night.

<*static*> "Please pull up to the window sir." <*static*>

As I pull up my car is still ice-cold and I can't wait hug my coffee and use it to warm my rigid chassis. I hate the cold. I'm sick all winter long and to be honest it just sucks.

<*window opens*> "That'll be $3.20 sir...and here...try a free sample of our new hash browns." I hand her the money and think to myself, Don't mind if I do. <* window closes*>

Eighty cents change comes my way and by now I've already consumed the tiny delicious sample of hash browns. I want more of them, but I don't want more of them. I drive onward to things of business with Andrew Jackson gasping for air within the capsule of my jeans. Poor little guy...he'll be okay. I can't ever seem to keep any presidents held hostage in there too long. Nothing to worry about Mr. Jackson...you'll be free soon enough.

After a couple of hours I forget that Andrew is even there. He doesn't take up much space and I am consumed with other thoughts. Consumed, that is, until I reach the grocery store. You see I've got some men to feed tonight. Men who will arrive at my home for spiritual insight and challenges. Men who will arrive for food. I want to feed them something healthy tonight...I think Baked Chicken in a light pan sauce with *Mirepoix Couscous will do the trick.

I gather up my missing ingredients and I head for the check-out line. This is where I remember Andrew. He's in my pocket. He's ready to help me out when I need him. So long as I have less than $20 worth of stuff I can use him. Hmm...I think this weird lasagna thing I'm having for lunch might put me over the top. Sorry Andrew, I think I might have to use my debit card.

The lady in front of me is fumbling about.

She can't seem to locate her payment method and she is searching frantically for it. I feel for her as this just happened to me last week. A friend of mine used my debit card and then attempted to steal it from me...or forgot to return it to me in a totally innocent manner...I can't remember which. Either way, I got up to pay for something and I didn't have my payment method. This kind of thing can make one feel totally helpless AND dumb.

The cashier keeps the line moving. She postpones this lady's transaction and gets mine moving. I sneak a peek at the woman's total before the cashier starts ringing in my items and it's $19.82...I remember because that's the year I was born...and because I'm OCD...and I'm a spy. My items are scanned in and my total comes to something I can't remember which bugs the crap out of me because it means I'm not being a very good OCD spy. Blast.

I use my debit card to pay. I stare spyishly over at the lady who is still searching for a way to pay for her goods. The Holy Spirit whispers to me, "Use Andrew, Use Andrew." I decide not to argue with Him since He's right even more often than my wife is and I can't possibly win this one.

I grab Andrew by the throat and I yank him towards the lady. I say..."Here, use this." She looks at me as if I were purple and just had hot magma pour from my face holes. We squabble for a moment and she gives in finally to receive Andrew as another temporary owner.

The woman, defeated, calms down and says gently, "But I don't even know what your name is." To which I responded, running backwards, "I'm just someone who loves Jesus."

She looked at me and simply said, "Okay."

I'm still a little confused as to why she didn't fall on her knees to receive salvation then and there like they describe in cheesy Christian devotionals. For me though, I couldn't have asked for a more excellent anti-climactic comment such as, "Okay."

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*Mirepoix (meer eh pwah) which means cuisine, is a traditional French cooking base for many, many things. It's made up of 2 parts onion, 1 part carrot, and 1 part celery. It is actually known as the "Holy Trinity" of cooking. If you start with a good Mirepoix...it's almost difficult to make the food bad from there.

5 waggish utterances thus far...:

DanThoms said...

I shall give my seal of approval on that menu, even if it is healthy. Thats a great story, sometimes you just have to take Andrew by the throat and make him do the right thing.

Ryan Allen Doan said...

way to bring the Kingdom Sweet Cheeks.

Ryan Allen Doan said...

and yes John did hang out with us when you visited. I would really imagine he was at community kitchen when you helped out. We are having a memorial service for him tomorrow.

Helen Ann said...

Awesome...I love when stuff like that happens. I also love being looked at like I'm purple with...with whatever that was pouring out of my face!

Anonymous said...

Yes, cold weather is horrid; guys who don't listen to their (intellgent) wives get into time-consuming, totally avoidable predicaments :D; and I'm sure I would've scrunched up my face in stern disapproval at such a laaame reply to your generosity...