“I rolled your crust,” the man in the backwards ballcap says to me as he walks in the glass doors, nodding his head with authority.
I’m always so behind on the cool/rad/hella good lingo. Is this a pickup line? I shift the pizza box in my hands to reveal - subtly - my wedding ring when the meaning of his words dawns. Ohh.
“Have you had my pizza before?” He tries again, smiling big and revealing some missing teeth, “It’s the best.”
I tilt my head. We don’t often order out for pizza, I am personally fond of my own hand-tossed crust. When was the last time we got Casey’s? Everyone knows the gas station is the best pizza in town, but that’s mainly because the Mexican restaurant drew the line at hot dogs and fries on the kids’ menu. Have I honestly eaten crust rolled by this man before? Maybe? I don’t want to commit. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I hope you like it!” and he slinks away. I step past the display with dollar bottles of XXX liquor to approach the counter with my gift card and change.
…
If you’ve been around my writing for a little while, you know I love these types of interactions. God’s image-bearers shining in the simplest, tiny moments. What does this story say about him? What does it say about me? What do I want to take away from this?
I don’t know his past, his story, but in a less-than-two-minute interaction, I learned that he found purpose and dignity making $15 pizzas for Casey’s. Can we all say that about our vocation?
I love little moments.. love that you recognize them - God's gifts to us!
Good question to ask.