Food for thought

If you’ve been keeping up with this blog, it’s no surprise to you: I love Panera Bread. Honestly, I don’t go there regularly, but picking up lunch, breakfast, or a quick snack for me is such a little treat. And this afternoon, I felt like treating myself.

So after paying my rent, I was off to Panera to refuel myself and prepare for grocery shopping.

The long line of late lunchers didn’t seem to bother me. After spending the whole day indoors yesterday, I was just happy to be around people again—to feel like a normal person in society. As I admired the girl in front of me’s eye make-up, I became engrossed in her conversation. Apparently she worked at Panera and was just getting off of work and her friends had met up with her for food. She and the guy she was with in line were have a casual conversation about nothing really when the guy mentioned that her boyfriend’s car had been just broken into while they were at the mall. She began to pout as he talked about all of the stuff that was stolen: the GPS system, his iPod, the radio. Fighting back tears, the girl stated that she’d bought all of that stuff for him. The guy with her kept talking about how they were meeting at Panera to try and figure out how to get the stuff back. They’d called the cops, he said, but now they were trying to figure out if they could track down the thief with through the GPS. As he talked about it, her face started getting red and she fought back tears as she asked him if he knew what he wanted from the menu. As calm as the guy standing next to her was, this girl seemed to be overly upset over her boyfriend’s losses.

I tried to look away from them, but her watery eyes made my own begin to slightly tear. I felt really bad for how upset she’d become. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her it was going to be alright, but I imagine I’d freak if some stranger did that to me. But as they approached the next register and she was now apparently crying to the point that her co-workers where wondering what was going on, I grew a little upset with the guy she was with. Why hadn’t he hugged her and consoled her? What kind of friend is he?

But now it was my turn to order and forget about what had just transpired.

Now sitting at a table too big for just me (but it’s the only free table in the place) with a piping hot sandwich and sweet tea (yeah, everything’s sweet in the South) before me, I started picking up bits and pieces of conversation from the family sitting across from me. The parents were talking about their kids going away to college and were asking them if they’d stay in church or not and other questions about Jesus. Again, I wanted to step in on the conversation.

It all made me think about one of my all-time favorite books, The Coffeehouse Gospel.
In the book, the author just writes about everyday conversations he’s had with people all over the country and how he’s used them as his ministry. Instead of drilling into people’s heads about how they should believe in God, he just talks and listens to folks and sets an example of what Christians (and honestly, everyone) should be like.

Man, I wish I was brave enough to just go up to strangers and make friends. I think that’s why I miss working at the coffee shop; it gave me an excuse to talk to people I probably wouldn’t normally without them thinking I was crazy. I remember how attached we got to the regulars that would come in. It was almost like they were friends instead of customers.

Maybe I just need to find that welcoming hangout place to go and work and meet people. I haven’t found one yet. So, I’ve discovered my new adventure: finding such a place. I’ll keep you posted.