The Bungee Cord 10-14-24

Hello,

“My name is Karl, with a “K”, said the man seated at the bar next to me.

My brother-in-law and I planned to meet for dinner at a local restaurant/bar the other night. I got there first and found the place to be quite busy. There weren’t any tables open, and the bar was filled except for two seats next to a disheveled man, so I walked up to the open spots and said to the man next to me, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Sure,” he said with a slurry glint in his voice. The unkempt beard on his face had not received a razor in a couple of weeks, and the long hair that was pulled straight back over his head looked as though it had not seen a washing in about that long. The waitress brought me over a menu and made sure that her glance did not fall upon him, obviously ignoring him in hopes that he would soon leave, and I soon found out why. “Don’t order the Ruben,” he said. “They put Russian dressing on it, and I told them when I ordered it that Ruben’s shouldn’t have Russian dressing on them, but when they gave it to me there was Russian dressing on it. The waitress told me that they put Russian dressing on their Rubens, and I told her that that is not the way to make a Ruben”…….on he went.

He was a talker, and his voice had certainly been loosened up by a number of beers that he had drunk. With “flowery” language he told me about his life as a construction worker, making the hour trip into Pittsburg every day. He went on to tell me about how he had gotten hurt on the job and now was on disability.

I ordered a burger.

He kept talking, and in between his words I told him that I was the retired pastor from the Lutheran church in town.

I could tell he heard me, because his language became less “vivid”, but it did not slow down. And then he said to me, “My wife died 7 years ago, and I’ve been alone ever since.”

Cancer got her, and for the last couple of months of her life, I cared for her at home.” He went on to talk about what a good woman she had been for all the years that they had been married.

My burger came, and I said to him that it was great talking to him.

Then he said, “My name is Karl, with a “K”. Thanks for listening to me.”

“Dear God, my name is Jerry, with a J. Thanks for listening to me. Amen.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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