Revelation 13:18

I can't make-up stuff like this. This week at work has been one huge illustration file.

So this lady, a priest and a nun walk in this morning [you see, that sentence right there would be the beginning of a great joke all by itself, but it really happened]. By the way, I didn't call them "Father" or "Sister." I just don't like doing that. Why would I call the priest that? I reserve that title for Ken Carr and God. Not that my dad is God but, as Luke Skywalker asserted, "You're not my father," and . . . well, you get my point.

Anyway, they placed an order, one that I don't think I ever entered in before: two bagels and three coffees. I type their order into the computer and begin saying, "Your order comes to . . . " and then, as I look down on my cash register screen, I'm horrified. It reads:


Yes friends, the cost of the priest and the nun's order was the mark of the beast.

So now I'm in a pickle. I always pronounce the order sans dollars and cents. So if the order came to $7.77 I would say, "Seven seventy-seven." I don't want to tell the clergy that their meal is fit for Damien. By the way, the movie The Omen always used to freak me out. That guy stuck under the ice still gives me the heebee-geebees. And while I'm there, you can't talk priests/Satan movies without The Exorcist. But once again, I digress.

So I cough and spit out " . . . um, that'll be six DOLLARS and sixty . . . six CENTS" [the words in bold were the ones I emphasized]. I don't think they noticed, but I did. Good thing I was there to save them.

And no, we weren't serving pea soup for lunch today.