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The Regular Customer

 by Christopher E. Sheets

(c) 2002

         Chris worked at Garcia’s Pizza when he was in high school.  He wrote this story for a contest put on by Illinois Central College in Peoria, somewhere between 1990 and 1992.  He won second place and the story was published along with the other winners in a special mini-book (I haven't found the original).

Chris describes a day at Garcia’s, on a late summer afternoon, when the sky suddenly darkened and the wind blew hard.  Out of the sky came a big, bright light accompanied by rain, loud noises that sounded like “God bowling a strike,” and “the most beautiful sound that ever a man did hear,” accompanied by an “angelic chorus.”

Chris describes what comes next.

The light neared the door, and by this time I saw most of the customers had fainted, supine on the floor, or were shaking, hands over eyes, for fear of seeing the light.  The door opened by no mortal or immortal hand that I saw, and in came the light.  As it crossed the threshold, the light diminished and there standing before me with fireflies of circling light, a face like the sun, and pure, white robes was God.

My mouth wide open, heart beating faster than a frightened rabbit’s, I moaned and a gray cloud passed over my eyes.  I resisted the urge to fall into deep sleep and stayed awake.  He looked down at me, smiled briefly, and said, “Just a second.  I’m still deciding.”

            “Okay, no problem,” was the only response I could give.  I, amazed at the sight and sound of God, could not think of anything else to say.

            “What do you have up?” He said.

            “Pardon me.” I asked.

            “What pizza do you have ready?” He responded, smiling again.

            Smiling back, I stuttered.  “Oh .. uh ... well, uh, we have ...”  I turned around to check on what we did have.  I saw the pizza, seeming unaffected by His presence, but also noticed my co-workers.  Some were standing in shock, others kneeling in prayer.  Still others were lying on the ground, finding the ceiling to be extremely interesting.

I turned again and said, “Sorry...um, well, we have pepperoni, cheese, and supreme ready.  I think sausage still has three minutes.”

He frowned at that, and replied, “I don’t want to have to wait.  I think sometimes I do that too much.  I guess I’ll try the supreme.  Is it any good?”

“It’s okay, I guess.  My favorite is pepperoni, but I guess you know that.” He smiled and nodded.  “I like supreme,” I said,  “But I pick off the mushrooms; I think they’re slimy and gross.  I guess you knew that also.”

“Yes, of course.  Well, give me two supreme slices, and a large Mountain Dew.” 

“Okay, right away,” I said, and got His order.  As I was pouring the drink, He asked, “Nice day, huh?”

I was completely ready to say “No” when I noticed that the rain had stopped, the lightning disappeared, and a rainbow stood arched over the last half of the red sun that was setting in the west.  Birds flew across the sky happily, singing in God’s honor.  All kinds of animals sat among the cars in the parking lot, licking paws and rubbing noses in general love.   I half expected to see the Ark in the parking lot.

“Yeah, it’s nice.  No, no, it’s great. Really great. Here you go.” I handed him His order and said.  “Don’t worry about paying.”

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Oh, of course.  It’s pretty much yours anyway, right?”

“Yes.  You’re right.” He turned, looked around the dining room, saw the outdoor patio, and sat outside.

The publicity comes and goes.  Usually He doesn’t appear anywhere else, and He doesn’t come down for food anywhere else.  The people come and go, all types from usually gaping tourists to serious Christians.  The Pope declared this place sacred ground, but it didn’t stop us from making pizza or from God returning.  He gets the same thing often, but sometimes he gets soup and salad, and he always sits outside amongst singing birds, panting dogs, purring cats, and other curious animals.  We don’t treat Him that much different from other customers; He isn’t that much different. 

He’ll come in (He dropped the dramatic entrance months ago), sit and eat, reading a book or newspaper or talking to a complete stranger.  He cleans up after Himself, much to the delight of our busboys. And He’ll talk to us for a few minutes and give very good advice or support.  He comes in twice a month, usually on Sundays. Yeah, God is a pretty regular customer.

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