Omelet Shoppe Confessions: The Proposal

Omelet ShoppeOne fateful post-Spring Formal evening, a large group of us decided to make a run to the Omelet Shoppe, as we often did after gala events. Because after a formal dance, nothing says “classy” like a greasy, smoke-filled diner. That night, there were enough of us to have to spread out and sit at several tables. At the time we arrived, the place was jumping. The all-night breakfast club was packed, so there was quite a bit of competition for tables.

After a long wait and several walking trips around the dining area, I sat at a table with two of my roommates, Mark and Dereck, along with our friend Kristy. Gertie took our orders and (eventually) brought us our extremely healthy food. Being the good Bluefield College (a Baptist institution) students that we were, we said a prayer before chowing down. But our prayer was interrupted.

Let me take a minute to explain something that I had seen before we sat down. At one booth were a few ladies. I don’t like to assume, but something told me that these were working gals. They must have been off duty at the moment, because one of these women was slumped over, half asleep (or possibly mostly dead). When we sat, I was facing in their direction while Dereck, directly across from me, had his back to them. Does that paint the picture for you? Will it help if I told you one of the ladies had on a mini-skirt that would have made Rainbow Brite jealous? Thought it might.

Rainbow BriteBack to the interrupted conversation with God… Dereck’s got his head bowed. His eyes are closed. Suddenly we hear, “Sir!” from Rainbow Brite. Then she shouted again, “Sir!” Dereck’s prayer probably changed from a blessing for his food to a plea. A plea that this lady wasn’t addressing him. He opened his eyes and I, being the helpful friend that I tend to be, said, “Dude, I think she’s trying to get your attention.” He just stared at me. It was a look that conveyed, I know she’s trying to get my attention. Now will you shut up so I can properly ignore her until she goes away?!

But Dereck was a gentlemen. He turned around. “Sir, could you pick that up for me please?”

He got up. He bent down. He handed the woman the object that she had “dropped” on the floor. He came back to the table, looked at each of us and said, “Yep, pretty sure that was a condom.”

At this point our laughter could not be contained. Well, Dereck’s could. He didn’t think it was even a little funny. But to this day, I have to laugh. If I’m right (and when am I not?), this woman was a hooker prostitute who had her eye on Dereck and wanted to give him a freebie. That’s what I think, anyway.


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