Do You Still Want the Sauce?

Going in, I didn’t expect any problems. I’d done it before, and it seemed fairly simple at the time.

Not long ago, I made a quick run to one of the local Taco Belleries to grab a few things for lunch. I asked for three items, nothing more. There were only a couple of modifications. For the beans and cheese, I asked them to add some creamy jalepeno sauce (ka-ching! $0.45). Then I wanted a 7-layer burrito, leave out the rice, but add the creamy jalepeno sauce (ka-ching! $0.45). The small drink I would get for myself. Nothing hard, and something that would allow me to get back to school in short fashion.

I should have suspected problems when the cashier asked if I wanted cheese on the pintos and cheese. “Yes,” I replied. “Regular pintos and cheese – just add the jalepeno sauce.”

“Do you still want the guacamole on the burrito?"

“Yes. Regular 7-layer without the rice – just add the jalepeno sauce.”

After confirming my order with me, the cashier took my money, and I stepped back, verifying that the number she’d given me matched the number on the receipt. I filled my drink, and picked up a spork and some napkins while I stood there.

In a short matter of time, a bag was handed to me. I could tell by the shape that it contained a burrito and a container full of beans. I went out to the car to eat while I listened to a radio program. First off, I opened the beans, only to find Fiesta Potatoes with cream cheese. Time to go back inside. Fortunately, I still had my receipt.

I approached one of the staff as he handed off another person’s order. “Excuse me. I order pintos and cheese with jalepeno sauce, and ended up with potatoes. Could I have my beans?” I asked as I showed my receipt.

After looking at my receipt, the fellow mumbled something and went to prepare the pintos and cheese. From the back he hollered, “Do you still want the jalepeno sauce on them?”

“Please,” I answered. At this, another worker looked up, and said, “I forgot to put the jalepeno sauce on your burrito. Do you still want it?”

“Sure, why not?” I responded, pulling the still wrapped burrito out of the bag and handing it to her.

Back to the car I went, where I ate the beans. I opened the burrito and took a bite. If you’ve ever had a Taco Bell burrito, you’ve probably noticed that things tend to be clumped into areas. It was only after the third bite that I came across something strange.

I opened the burrito only to find ground beef in what is supposed to be a vegetarian item. Let’s go back inside, shall we?

“Excuse me,” I asked the crew who had now become like family. “Do you normally put meat in the 7-layer burrito?”

This time the manager came over. “No, we never put meat in those.” I held out the offending item for her perusal, along with my less than crisp reciept.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Let me remake it.”

A moment later, “Did you still want jalepeno sauce on it?”

As I said earlier, I thought my request to be simple, reasonable, not complicated. As I stood there, I began to wonder why there was such a mess up. I mean, they have a screen that provides an itemized list of each order. Had they just scanned it, not paying real attention? Had they been working out of habit, not knowing what they were doing or why? Did they think it wouldn't matter to me if I got something other than what I ordered? I even considered, briefly, asking if I could come back to the kitchen to show them how to do it.

In Micah 6:8, our spitual “screen” tells us what God requires of us: to do justly, to love mercy, and walk humbly with Him. Pretty simple. Only three items. Why then do we find it so hard to fill the order? Maybe, sometimes, we forget to look closely at the "screen" He’s provided for us. Maybe we forget to communicate with Him, verifying exactly what it is we’re to do. I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way I’ll ever get the order right is if I let Him into the kitchen of my life, and have Him do it for me.

By the way, hold the jalepeno sauce on the drink!

Dr. G