The Tea, the Jew, and the Cake: Guilty on Three Charges
The story you are about to hear is true, names have been omitted out to protect the innocent.
I was working one quiet Sunday morning, running the customer service register at my local health food store. There wasn’t a customer in sight so I doing odds and ends in the front-end to stay busy and do the “above and beyond” for my manager (whilst eating cake and drinking a large coffee). It was around 8:30 when a woman approached my line. She held a box of tea and a receipt. My “returns customer” alert went off in my mind so as I signed into my register I made sure to greet the customer with exuberant affability. She told me she wasn’t doing very well, that she was feeling rather ill. Mentally, I upgraded to code red and nodded as I paged for my manager—I was going to need the password to refund her money.
“I’m so sorry to hear that you’re not feeling well.” Somehow I managed to segue from that awkward correspondence to the issue at hand—the tea.
As it turned out it was an 8 dollar box of hibiscus tea, tea she said “smelled moldy”. She went on to tell me she thought the tea was making her sick and encouraged me to open a pack up and smell for myself. I took a big whiff. There was nothing, nothing but some tough smelling hibiscus, ready for a dainty white mug and maybe some saltine crackers.
“Yes, ma’am, definitely musty smelling!” I lied, not wanting to send her already sour mood over the edge.
My manager eventually ventured over, keying in the password so I could pull the 8 bucks from my drawer. I handed her the greens and asked if there was anything else the store could do for her, being sure I apologized for the moldy tea. She shook her head, pausing as she put away her money in her purse. Out of the quiet, she said that I reminded her of a fictional character. She gestured to my red beanie, swoop of brown hair, and dark glasses.
“What was the name of that guy that was hiding, and you had to find him?”
I inwardly rolled my eyes. She wouldn’t be the only one to relate me to this archaic character, or others.
“Where’s Waldo?”
She snapped her fingers, “That’s it, you look like him”
“I’ve gotten that before,” I may have said something about how coworkers at my other job made the same observation.
Before leaving she asked me “What religion are you?”
I thought that was a very odd question, especially I hadn’t seen her look at my Greek AD 33 Jesus bracelet. “Christian” I said quickly, boldly.
She looked at me oddly, nodded. “I’m Jewish. I believe in the ways of the ancient Egyptian Jews.” She gave such a sect a name. It began with an E and was two syllables; the exact term evades me now. I should have nodded, handed her the receipt and bided her a good day. What I was about to do was a mistake that I painfully regretted for all of the next five minutes. Cocking my head, I asked her what her group was, acknowledging I’d never heard of it. The woman cocked her weight to one leg, getting comfortable for what she was about to do. Somewhere in my mind shield gets went up, I mentally gasped for air like a huge tsunami of water was about to wash me and my huge slice of cake out of customer service and out on highway 72. And suddenly, I felt very reserved. She gave a warning what she was going to say was offensive but honest. It was brutal. One of the first things she told me was that Jesus was not God. I wanted to jump on top of my register and shout “heresy! There’s a heretic in the building!” But my manager was still nearby, besides her receipt had my name on it and she looked like she was one phone call away from getting me fired —a woman who smells mold in perfectly sweet hibiscus tea bags is no customer to take without looking over your shoulder. I stood there and listened to her go on,
“I believe in the magic of Moses and Elijah, do you know Moses and Elijah?” She actually had a Californian up-talk, almost sounded like a skater kid at times. Was she trying to reach me from underneath my youth, beanie, and glasses?
I acknowledged I was quite familiar with the name and she went on to remind me how Moses had lifted a serpent in the wilderness and how she was a serpent, a serpent of God.
I think I swallowed.
Furthermore, she went on to say that she was an angel, held down and oppressed by Christian philosophy, which she said was “ruining everything” She told me at least half a dozen Hebrew and Aramaic words for God which were hidden in bird calls and names for animals. She demonstrated that one of the words for God was in the call of a crow.
I held my breath. Was there such a thing as dark magic that could harm me if I didn’t plug my hears or shut my eyes, or throw salt or…I prayed to Jesus silently, “Dear Lord Jesus, protect and sustain me, and silence this woman.” Satisfied by the promises that “Not one can snatch us from Christ’s hand” I put on my customer service face and listened.
“If you believe in God” Her California intonation was heavy here “The God of Sinai? You believe in a peaceful God. I’m going to say it again, Jesus is not God” She told me why. “Jesus said himself that he came not to bring peace but a sword right?”
“Of course,” I said.
“God would never bring a sword, but peace; The God of Sinai Is a God of peace. He says our swords will be beaten into plowshares.”
She wasn’t done, “Also, Jesus said ‘This is my blood, take and drink’. We are forbidden to drink blood in the law, God would never tell us to drink blood, especially his blood!” she was getting very excited about all this. “Jesus is not God because he said he would come like a thief in the night. God would never come to steal; he forbids it in the law. So already, Jesus is guilty on three charges.”
I must have shrunk my head back.
“Again I’m going to be offensive; It’s you Christians that are going to ruin the earth. Jesus is going to come back in an apocalypse. Which do you want, the God of peace, the God of Sinai, or Jesus and his violent apocalypse?” She took up her purse and receipt.
My shoulders eased. She was done. I had to bite back. I couldn’t just take it. I was going to bite back without losing my job. I looked her in the eye, gave a cute little wave and in a small baby voice, not un-condescending (like I was talking to a grumpy toddler) I said “Okay, ma’am, have a nice day. Thanks for sharing!” She nodded and walked off. I think I waved to her turned back, took a forkful of chocolate cake and a drag of my coffee.
Next to the customer service counter the morning produce guy quietly watered hyacinths. He let out a grunt.
“Did you catch all that?” I asked him through a mouth of cake. He grunted again “Yes. She and I have had the pleasure of speaking before.”
I threw her box of tea in the returns bin and thought about how she must have failed the symbolism section on her English exams.
The story you are about to hear is true, names have been omitted out to protect the innocent.
I was working one quiet Sunday morning, running the customer service register at my local health food store. There wasn’t a customer in sight so I doing odds and ends in the front-end to stay busy and do the “above and beyond” for my manager (whilst eating cake and drinking a large coffee). It was around 8:30 when a woman approached my line. She held a box of tea and a receipt. My “returns customer” alert went off in my mind so as I signed into my register I made sure to greet the customer with exuberant affability. She told me she wasn’t doing very well, that she was feeling rather ill. Mentally, I upgraded to code red and nodded as I paged for my manager—I was going to need the password to refund her money.
“I’m so sorry to hear that you’re not feeling well.” Somehow I managed to segue from that awkward correspondence to the issue at hand—the tea.
As it turned out it was an 8 dollar box of hibiscus tea, tea she said “smelled moldy”. She went on to tell me she thought the tea was making her sick and encouraged me to open a pack up and smell for myself. I took a big whiff. There was nothing, nothing but some tough smelling hibiscus, ready for a dainty white mug and maybe some saltine crackers.
“Yes, ma’am, definitely musty smelling!” I lied, not wanting to send her already sour mood over the edge.
My manager eventually ventured over, keying in the password so I could pull the 8 bucks from my drawer. I handed her the greens and asked if there was anything else the store could do for her, being sure I apologized for the moldy tea. She shook her head, pausing as she put away her money in her purse. Out of the quiet, she said that I reminded her of a fictional character. She gestured to my red beanie, swoop of brown hair, and dark glasses.
“What was the name of that guy that was hiding, and you had to find him?”
I inwardly rolled my eyes. She wouldn’t be the only one to relate me to this archaic character, or others.
“Where’s Waldo?”
She snapped her fingers, “That’s it, you look like him”
“I’ve gotten that before,” I may have said something about how coworkers at my other job made the same observation.
Before leaving she asked me “What religion are you?”
I thought that was a very odd question, especially I hadn’t seen her look at my Greek AD 33 Jesus bracelet. “Christian” I said quickly, boldly.
She looked at me oddly, nodded. “I’m Jewish. I believe in the ways of the ancient Egyptian Jews.” She gave such a sect a name. It began with an E and was two syllables; the exact term evades me now. I should have nodded, handed her the receipt and bided her a good day. What I was about to do was a mistake that I painfully regretted for all of the next five minutes. Cocking my head, I asked her what her group was, acknowledging I’d never heard of it. The woman cocked her weight to one leg, getting comfortable for what she was about to do. Somewhere in my mind shield gets went up, I mentally gasped for air like a huge tsunami of water was about to wash me and my huge slice of cake out of customer service and out on highway 72. And suddenly, I felt very reserved. She gave a warning what she was going to say was offensive but honest. It was brutal. One of the first things she told me was that Jesus was not God. I wanted to jump on top of my register and shout “heresy! There’s a heretic in the building!” But my manager was still nearby, besides her receipt had my name on it and she looked like she was one phone call away from getting me fired —a woman who smells mold in perfectly sweet hibiscus tea bags is no customer to take without looking over your shoulder. I stood there and listened to her go on,
“I believe in the magic of Moses and Elijah, do you know Moses and Elijah?” She actually had a Californian up-talk, almost sounded like a skater kid at times. Was she trying to reach me from underneath my youth, beanie, and glasses?
I acknowledged I was quite familiar with the name and she went on to remind me how Moses had lifted a serpent in the wilderness and how she was a serpent, a serpent of God.
I think I swallowed.
Furthermore, she went on to say that she was an angel, held down and oppressed by Christian philosophy, which she said was “ruining everything” She told me at least half a dozen Hebrew and Aramaic words for God which were hidden in bird calls and names for animals. She demonstrated that one of the words for God was in the call of a crow.
I held my breath. Was there such a thing as dark magic that could harm me if I didn’t plug my hears or shut my eyes, or throw salt or…I prayed to Jesus silently, “Dear Lord Jesus, protect and sustain me, and silence this woman.” Satisfied by the promises that “Not one can snatch us from Christ’s hand” I put on my customer service face and listened.
“If you believe in God” Her California intonation was heavy here “The God of Sinai? You believe in a peaceful God. I’m going to say it again, Jesus is not God” She told me why. “Jesus said himself that he came not to bring peace but a sword right?”
“Of course,” I said.
“God would never bring a sword, but peace; The God of Sinai Is a God of peace. He says our swords will be beaten into plowshares.”
She wasn’t done, “Also, Jesus said ‘This is my blood, take and drink’. We are forbidden to drink blood in the law, God would never tell us to drink blood, especially his blood!” she was getting very excited about all this. “Jesus is not God because he said he would come like a thief in the night. God would never come to steal; he forbids it in the law. So already, Jesus is guilty on three charges.”
I must have shrunk my head back.
“Again I’m going to be offensive; It’s you Christians that are going to ruin the earth. Jesus is going to come back in an apocalypse. Which do you want, the God of peace, the God of Sinai, or Jesus and his violent apocalypse?” She took up her purse and receipt.
My shoulders eased. She was done. I had to bite back. I couldn’t just take it. I was going to bite back without losing my job. I looked her in the eye, gave a cute little wave and in a small baby voice, not un-condescending (like I was talking to a grumpy toddler) I said “Okay, ma’am, have a nice day. Thanks for sharing!” She nodded and walked off. I think I waved to her turned back, took a forkful of chocolate cake and a drag of my coffee.
Next to the customer service counter the morning produce guy quietly watered hyacinths. He let out a grunt.
“Did you catch all that?” I asked him through a mouth of cake. He grunted again “Yes. She and I have had the pleasure of speaking before.”
I threw her box of tea in the returns bin and thought about how she must have failed the symbolism section on her English exams.
