Brutally Honest Waiter

The little old lady was on a three-day cross-country car trip, all by herself. After a full day on the road, she was bone weary. She pulled over at a nice-looking motel somewhere in Arizona that was attached to a restaurant.

The dinner menu looked OK. The waiter arrived, a teen with tousled hair.

“What’s the soup today?”

“Bean soup.”

“Is it any good?”

“I don’t know what happened . . . but today, it is.”

No, she didn’t order the soup. And she kept all 10 fingers and all 10 toes crossed when her entrée arrived.

She doesn’t know what happened . . . but it was good.

By Susan Darst Williams • • © 2019