October 4, 2014

The Night Santa Gave Me Cookies

I received an undeserved and unexpected present today from an unlikely source, but I'll take it nonetheless.

My family enjoys pizza, sometimes too much. We have our favorites, but tend to frequent the local establishments that are running the best deal at any particular time. This includes today's pizza pick: a well-known pizza joint (who I shall keep anonymous) who I have had a standing history of less than desirable service. From waiting for my order for extended minutes of time after it was expected to be done to waiting to be served even though behind the counter, a small army of workers always seems to be on the clock.

As I walked in today to the chime that alerts the staff of a customer's arrival, a portly gentlemen in a big red jacket and a long flowing snow-colored beard, glared back at me with a look of frustration in his eyes. After he returned his glare to the disheveled teenage cashier, it was apparent he was not pleased with the service he was receiving. I was able to decipher that he had received the wrong food and was now being asked to wait for his new (and original order) to be cooked. Though he was clearly annoyed by this disruption to his plans, he was quite calm yet forceful in the way he was discussing his distaste for the inconvenience this mistake had caused him. 

In what seemed like a peace offering, another staff member handed him an over-sized dessert cookie, which he quickly refused, announcing his issues with diabetes. Having their idea of a truce being thwarted, they politely asked him to step aside so they could handle my order. My transaction went smoothly and as I was turning to leave, the cashier asked me if I wanted the cookie my fellow pizza patron had just turned rejected. Being a cookie enthusiast, I hopped at the opportunity until the cashier than attempted to ring me up for this unordered treat. 

Instantly, the initial gentlemen's face got about as red as his coat as he jumped in and demanded to know why they were trying to charge me for an item they had just tried to offer him for free. Before anyone of the obviously confused and nervous staff could respond, he reversed his original decision and demanded his dessert pizza. When they gave it to him, he immediately turned and gave it to me.

So, though the old story states that children are to leave milk and cookies by the fireplace for Santa, I can now say that Santa has given me a cookie.  I guess I have been really nice this year.

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