Good story

Here's a true story from my dashing experience. I hope the doctor will forgive me.

I walk into Wendy's and open my phone; the order is a Frosty for Jesus. Now to be fair I recognized this as "hay-SEUSS" (which I pronounce "hay-ZEUS"), a Hispanic name, and I have no problem with it; but, I laugh a little at the idea of bringing a frosty to Jesus.

The worker, a pretty young Native American woman (forgive me if I'm wrong), was making about six or seven frosties. Another door-dasher came in and stood behind me, as I'd gotten there first. When she was done she asked me about my order, and I said, a frosty for Jesus. I laughed a little as I turned around and showed the other dasher my order. One of the more unusual ones, I said. He showed me his. TWO orders for Jesus, both of frosties! I told him we'd better be on our best behavior, and he laughed.

Turns out mine was going to the hospital. Out there, a doctor came out to claim it, and said he was Jesus. I told him I thought more were coming, and he said he knew that. What most likely happened was that he agreed to order them for every worker, and somebody walked in late. I got the late one, but got there first, because I'd been closer to Wendy's when the order came in. Or perhaps the single one had been first, the others an afterthought.

True story, still gives me a chuckle.