Free Meals

It was just a case of mistaken identity.

But after all these years, I need to share my secret. That’s why I’m telling you.

In my younger days, I worked in a downtown store’s advertising department. My job was to write about everything from cameras to hair clips.

As a single lazy guy, I didn’t cook. I ate out every night, usually at a large “home cooking” restaurant. One night something strange happened.

I went to pay my check, and the new night manager said, “Don’t worry, son, we’re buying your dinners now. How are things at the seminary?”

I said, “Thanks, but I don’t go to the seminary.”

In reply, the manager just smiled. “You’re just being modest,” he said. “See you next time.”

What could I do? I felt bad about this. But a couple times every week I weakened, and I grabbed a free meal there.

Each time, I emphasized I was not the theologian they thought I was. But they kept giving me free food.

Being the miserly kid I was, I also took dates there, and I had to pay only for their meals. That way, if the date didn’t work out, it didn’t me cost much.

Sadly, after only a year or so, the night manager changed. The restaurant then recognized me for what I was… just a guy who liked their food.

But many of their frequent customers had often heard me called a minister. If they saw me on the street, they’d wave and say, “Bless you, reverend.”

I’d bless them right back. And you know what? I think it made both of us feel better.