It had been a long day – a long week actually – and it was a good day to eat brunch out. It’s fairly easy to get a seat at the bar even during the Sunday brunch rush at Zada Jane’s.
My lunch date had fallen through but I don’t mind eating alone. And when you go places alone people are more likely to talk to you. Enter the coke dealer.
David (not his real name) was sitting beside me at the breakfast bar and he asked me to guess what he did for work. He was a 30-something wearing a t-shirt and jeans and before I could guess, he blurted out that he was an investment banker. His point was that we shouldn’t judge people by appearances which is also true for me. (I made him guess what I do for a living and he thought I was an investment banker too.)
Actually, he was not an investment banker and neither am I. Our server outed me as a Presbyterian pastor. (I am the resident chaplain at Zada Jane’s.)
David asked for prayer and girlfriend advice and he showed me photos of his kids. I suggested he phone someone to help him get home and two guys soon came by. (David was drunk.) And then he said he wanted to pay for my brunch.
He pulled out a wad of cash “from last night’s party” and he told me that he’s actually a cocaine dealer “sometimes.”
And sometimes I find church in random places.
Image of the bar area of Zada Jane’s – one of the best breakfasts in Charlotte. I previously wrote about Random Church here.