Sing For Your Supper

Dec 16, 2011 by

Sing For Your Supper

You only have to be in Seattle 5 minutes before you discover that Tom Douglas knows a thing or two about food, restaurants, and, in particular, coconut cream pie.  Within four square blocks, you’ll find at least five Tom Douglas restaurants and they all have at least one menu item in common. You guessed it . . . the coconut cream pie.  It’s delicious, and you needn’t be a coconut cream pie fan to think so.

Today as I walked the streets of downtown, visiting the women’s shelter, post office, and grocery store, I headed toward the Dahlia Bakery to get a cup of soup for lunch.  Tom Douglas also knows how to make a mean pot of soup.  As I approached the bakery, I noticed a sign they had displayed prominently at the door that read, “Sing us a line from your favorite Christmas carol and get a coconut cream bite for free!”

What?

This. Must. Be. My. Lucky. Day!

I walked in, knowing exactly what I’d sing, a decision inspired by my son, Ryan.  In an uncharacteristic, musical mood, he recently allowed his wife to record him singing the chorus of “O, Holy Night.”  And, not only that, he consented to her posting it on Facebook.  Not a big deal for a singing extrovert like myself, but for one who is mostly known for cursing, shaking, and slapping defensive backs around on a sideline, his singing moment of candor was exceptional.  With Ryan on my mind, I cleared my throat and prepared to sing for my bite o’ pie.

“Hi!  What can I get you?” asked the cute girl at the cash register.

“I’ll take a bowl of the lentil soup, please.” I answered with a smirk on my face.

She grabbed the bowl to fill the soup.  I waited.  Then she grabbed the huge piece of rustic bread that comes with it . . .

“Oh, no.  No bread, please.  Going to Mexico soon and trying to shrink my butt a bit.”  I laugh.

“Oh, okay.”  She continued, “Then do you want to olive oil drizzled over the soup?”

“Um, no . . . ”

“What about the cheese?”

Crap.  “No thanks,” I said with my shoulders now drooping.

I guess that’s a no on the friggin’ pie too, Nicole.  But still . . . I opened my mouth . . . and

“O, holy night.  The stars are brightly shining.  It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth . . . ”

The staff from the back came to the front.  Well, okay .  . .

“Long lay the world in sin and error pining ’til he appeared and the soul felt its worth.”

More.  To the front.

“The thrill of hope.  A weary world rejoices.  For yonder breaks, a new and cloudless morn . . . ”

I stop.  Applause.  Calls for more.  I decline.

“Oh, man.  Let me get you your pie!”

“No.  No, thanks.”  I smile.   “Actually, yes . . . to the ‘thanks’ I mean.  Thanks for giving me an excuse to sing for you.”

“You?  You can come in here and sing any time you want! And, how about we discount your soup?  Cool?!”

“Cool.”

Well, I didn’t get the pie.  Mexico’s beaches loom ahead.  But I did get to add some sweetness to my day.

Peace and Blessings,

Nicole Walters

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