If you are a Catholic, or even an Episcopalian, you will get this immediately. If you are neither, well, it’s all innocent fun.
The coffee shop across the street started selling “nostalgia” candy this week–Boston Baked Beans and the like. I couldn’t help myself. I bought a roll of Necco Wafers. (For those of you unfamiliar with this treat–think flavor and texture of Valentine’s Day candy hearts, only round and flat–and better tasting.)
Members of the above-mentioned religions, you know where this is going, yes?
An aside: I am a candy freak. I work in a restaurant, surrounded by food, but nary a bite to eat because breaks are a rare commodity and six hours without moving from my podium’s realm is not an unusual stint.
To get through the day, after multiple cups of coffee, I down candy. Lots of it. Nerds for breakfast, great. Junior Mints for lunch, of course. Gummy anything, all the time (are the worms, bears, etc. actually digestable?).
The waiters, other hosts–everyone, in fact–know who to ask when they need an energy fix and the Red Bull has run dry. More often than not, I just hand the stuff out to my co-workers between customers.
The Neccos were a huge hit.
“You know what we used to do with these?” asked a young red-haired server. Of course I knew!
Play church. Play communion.
One of my managers, who makes no bones about his Irish heritage, chimed in immediately as well.
After we’d had a good laugh about it, the manager and waiter dispersed, leaving me to my podium. And who should walk in?
I am NOT KIDDING. A priest–full collar and all–with two others, for lunch.
I almost choked. I also almost asked him if he knew about Necco Wafers. I didn’t, of course.
But seriously, there is a God, and he plays church with the Neccos.