Eateries, Evangelism, & Erectile Dysfunction

THE very Coco's I dined at in Huntington Beach.

Coco's Bakery. I'd been wanting to try it out for a while, but had been warned that it was really nothing but old people and mediocre food. I usually associate old people with strange smells and drooling so I thought better of it for a while. But for some reason, one night this past December, I felt the urge for a chicken dinner followed by pie simply irresistible. As I wandered in and began perusing the menu at my table, I was almost immediately overwhelmed by the extreme elderliness taking place in there. I certainly was the youngest person in the joint by at least fifty years. At least.
Within five seconds of being seated, I was being questioned for my relative youth and all that it entails.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ALL ALONE?" the voice of an old man sitting at the booth across from me BOOMED, quite startlingly. You know, that I'm-so-old-and-my-hearing-aid-is-malfunctioning-and-I-can't-hear-myself-yelling-over-the-sound-of-my-wrinkles-and-maybe-I'm-so-old-that-even-my-wrinkles-have-hearing-aids kind of BOOM.

Believe it or not, I had not come to Coco's to fraternize with the nearly dead. I wanted chicken and pie. That's it. Leave me alone, ya bag of bones. Oh yeah, and he was drooling to boot.

Not knowing what else to say, I responded rather snarkily:

"What are YOU doing here all alone???" Immediate regret. He was rather old and it was more than likely the case that he was a widower. Duh.

"Well, my wife died a few years go...." Ding ding ding. I'm a horrible human being.

Ehhhhh......... oops......

"But it's okay..." he continued, "I know she's gone to be with the Lord now." He paused. "Do you know the Lord???"

Here we go. Not that I didn't LOVE the prospect of being evangelized to by a drooling stranger at a volume of voice incredibly disproportional to the space between us in a crowded restaurant while I tried to enjoy my chicken..... BUT..... I didn't love the prospect of being evangelized to by a drooling stranger at a volume of voice incredibly disproportional to the space between us in a crowded restaurant while I tried to enjoy my chicken.

After assuring him that I knew the Lord and that he need not evangelize to me, I realized that wasn't going to be enough of a "cease and desist" for him. He was clearly lonely, at least as lonely as I was, and he'd barely touched his food. My excellent detective work pointed me in the direction of him not shutting up OR going home anytime soon.

Cue internal groan. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" I asked.

He appeared shocked at the question, but after realizing that someone's ears would now be his oyster, his whole soul seemed to perk up.

I ordered my chicken and I asked him to tell me about his wife. He happily obliged. I took a risk and asked him if he thought he'd ever get married again. I'm not sure why I decided to go there but he unsurprisingly responded by shaking his head "no". He went on to explain that he wouldn't remarry because "DO YOU KNOW WHAT E.D. IS?" Yes, I do. Please don't explain it please don't explain it please don't expla-  "IT STANDS FOR ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION," he screeched. A gaggle of grannies at the booth behind us suddenly paused their conversation, and though I was too embarrassed to look, I imagine they scowled a perturbed granny kind of scowl.

Anyways....All aboard the S.S. Awkwardly-Personal-Conversations-For-Strangers-To-Be-Having! But since I had voluntarily accepted my role as co-captain, I asked him about his Christian testimony, his work, his children, his grandchildren. I was digging for the reason I had come to share my meal time with this man. Strangely enough, I just couldn't seem to find it. After an hour of conversation (and an impending place I needed to be), I somewhat disappointedly began wrapping things up. When his incredibly attractive (engaged to be married) grandson came to pick him up, I rushed through an introduction, paid for my food, said goodbye to my dinner-buddy, and slunk out the door.

As I drove away, I reflected on the complete and utter insignificance of the past hour. It had been a normal conversation, just like any other. What was the point of that? I wondered. What impact had God intended for that encounter to have on my life?  Having been remarkable only for being truly unremarkable, I couldn't even construct all that interesting of a story from that experience. And then suddenly, I knew.

 Donald Miller puts it best in one of my favorite books of all time, Blue Like Jazz:

"The most difficult lie I have ever contended with is this: 
Life is a story about me."

The "old bag of bones'" name was Phil. Phil had told me that when he woke up that day, he walked to Coco's for breakfast. After that, he walked a rather long distance straight from Coco's to McDonald's for lunch. After lunch, he went directly back to Coco's for dinner. He did not pass Go. He did not collect $200. After a day spent only eating and walking to places to eat, a conversation with a head louse would probably have entertained him. And there I was: a real, living, breathing person who was willing to put up with some irrelevant discomfort to talk with him. Throughout dinner, Phil had expressed the most sincere and enthusiastic gratitude towards me for the simple act of sharing a meal with him. It wasn't until after I had left that I realized he had been truly emotionally touched in a way that wasn't contingent upon whether I was or not. Ironically, subsequent to that realization, I was.

It really upsets me that I have spent so much of my life wondering what I'm getting out of it and how my story is being affected. I guess the only thing I can do now is continue collecting those tiny moments to remind me that I'm not the main character after all.

As for the food at Coco's: it was EXTREMELY mediocre [ha], but that's neither here nor there.