I'm Pretty Sure *That* Wasn't It

Yesterday, we took our kiddos on an outing to the aquarium. Our classes in the past have always enjoyed this field trip, and our class this year was no exception. They had a great time, noses pressed avidly to glass to watch all of the sea creatures. Our girls were mesmerized by the seahorses and the boys spent when felt like hours tracking the progression of the shark.

I drove my car to the field trip, having obtained special permission, since I get seasick while looking at a glass of water. I get car sick, plane sick, bus sick, and often even feel queasy when I watch Offspring play her first-person, point-of-view video games. I used to ride the bus with all of the other teachers and students on field trips, but I was freaking the kids out when I'd have to get off the bus at the end of each way of the journey, hie myself off to the closest bush, and vomit. So, it was decided that it would probably be in the best interest of EVERYONE if I just drove my own car.

After we loaded the bus for the return trip to school, I scooted off to pick up lunch for the adults. I pulled into a restaurant that has a carryout service, and waited for the waitress to come to my window so I could tell her that I had already called ahead, and that our orders should already be waiting. It was a little past noon, and the carry-out area was already full of cars, waiting to place or pick up orders. There was only one waitress on duty, and she was obviously swamped, so I settled back to wait. A car parked directly in front of me got its order, paid, and pulled away from the curb. Shortly after, another car, a white Pontiac Vibe, pulled into its place. The waitress motioned to me that she knew I was waiting, and did likewise to all of the other patrons. The lady in the while Pontiac became annoyed when the waitress didn't immediately bound over to her window for her order, but disappeared into the recesses of the restaurant instead.

On the waitress' next trip outside, she delivered some orders, and took some others. The Pontiac lady became even more annoyed at the fact that she actually had to wait her turn, and rolled down her window and began to knock on the roof of her car to attract the waitress' attention. Never mind the fact that I had arrived before she had -- it was apparently too long for her to wait. The harried waitress scurried over and took her order, and then came to me and took mine. She then hurried into the building to place the new orders and to gather mine.

After a few minutes, another waitress finally came on duty, and stepped outside to make sure that everyone had been taken care of. Keep in mind that not five minutes had passed since Annoying Pontiac Lady had placed her order. She knocks on the side of her car to attract the attention of the new waitress, and complains loudly that she was still waiting on her order. "All I ordered was cheese sticks and a coke," she brayed. I looked on, with mouth agape, as she sends the second waitress in to hurry her order along. After another few minutes or so, the second waitress hurries out with her order, and the Annoying Lady pays her bill and backs out of her parking space. As she pulls away, I see a large "What Would Jesus Do?" bumper sticker emblazoned on the back of her car. Now, I'm not real conversant in what Jesus would or would not do, but I'm fairly certain that He wouldn't have approved.