God’s Favorite Waitress

I want to be God’s
favorite waitress. When
he comes
in the door, I
want him
to ask for me. When
he wants
I want him
to ask me
to get it. I don’t care
what it is. And
I don’t care
he asks.

I want
to spend my life
perfecting my approach. Warm
smile, gracious welcome, sweet,
unhurried manner.
I want him
to feel like
he’s my only

When my car breaks
down in the middle of the night with
my young daughter asleep
in the back seat, I know
it’s another chance
to capture
his heart.

I ask, what will it be
God? What can
I bring you
from the kitchen? A meeting
with a friendly stranger? Hours
of waiting
in the dark? Or a long alert walk
on this cold, moon-less night?
You tell me.

I’ll go get it.

—Jeannie Zandi