Friday, October 26, 2007

I got about six hours of sleep last night and I’m feeling pretty good. Those long days took a lot out of me, but I’m pretty close to normal today. Well, normal for me, anyway.

So, I had commented in my previous post that I would share the story of the ex-convict who made my sandwich at the conference. Now, I didn’t know he was an ex-convict, not that it matters. I work with the down-trodden of society and applaud anyone trying to make a decent living. Anyway, I’ve seen him many times at other conferences, and he’s always done a good job of putting lunches together. He recognized me and our conversation went something like this…

Him: Hey there young lady. Long time, no see. What can I get for you today?

Me: I think I’m going to have a chicken wrap.

Him: You got it ma’am. I’m very good at makin’ these wraps, yes I am. I am an ex-peer-ee-yanced food man.

Me [smiling]: You do make a mean sandwich. I have no complaints.

Him: Ain’t nobody ever be complainin’ about the sandwiches I make, no ma’am.

[We made idle chit chat about the crazy weather while he expertly arranged the chicken, cheese and vegetables in the wrap, bringing in the ends and tucking them in tightly so the filling wouldn’t come out while I was eating. I appreciated that. There’s nothing worse than rushing through a short lunch break, biting into a wrap and having the bottom fall open and everything landing in a heap on the wrapper.]

Him: Is there anything else I can be gettin’ for you today?

Me: I don’t think so. I’m happy with just this. You do a good job.

Him: I sure do. I got me the best experience preparing meals for hundreds of people every single day, yes I did. Ain’t never heard a complaint yet.

Me: That’s amazing. No complaints. You must have done a heck of a job. And had good training.

Him: Yes ma’am, I did have some good training. It helped too that my fellow prisoners just didn’t have much to say about my culinary skills.

With that, he gave me a big, gold-toothed smile and moved on to the next customer. Good for him.


Cheryl said...

Great replay of the conversation, Martha. No wonder his wraps are so tight...

CC said...

Your wrap-droppings simply fall into the wrapper? You're lucky, mine usually fall over my lap/desk/the floor...