WAITER NIGHTMARE
I Was The Waiter At The Last Supper, And They Were An Awful Table
Jesus wasn’t a very good restaurant customer
I used to work at the restaurant called Galilee’s, where Jesus had his Last Supper, and, to be frank, that night stands out in my memory as one of the worst tables I ever served.
It was a mess from the beginning, as Jesus had made a reservation in our event room for 26 people, and he requested the tables all be in a solid line. We had to totally rearrange the room, and the line of tables barely fit in the space. But then he showed up with only 12 other people! After they were sitting down for a bit, I asked Jesus when the rest of his party would arrive, and he said they were all present. They were all either sitting or standing on the same side of the table, which made it quite annoying to have to walk all the way around the 26-top table several dozen times throughout the night.
It quickly became obvious Jesus was a total cheapskate because he ordered everyone glasses of tap water, which of course are free, but he magically turned them all into wine. The whole table got wasted, and all we could charge them was a $10 uncorking fee for technically bringing their own wine.
For food, Jesus ordered a single breadstick, and magically multiplied it into dozens of loaves of bread so they had a feast for the price of a single shekel breadstick. I reminded Jesus that the event contract he signed to reserve the room specified a 250-shekel minimum so he should probably order more off the menu, but he got furious all of a sudden and turned into a Karen. He upturned one of the tables, yelled at me about moneychangers, ranted about camels going through doorways, and demanded to speak to my manager. I went and got my manager, but Jesus would only say to him that the real manager was his father, the LORD.
Thankfully, one of the Disciples, Peter, calmed Jesus down, and Jesus called him “his rock.” He said, “On this rock I will build my church.” It was very odd. Even Peter didn’t really seem to understand what it meant.
Their party continued on with Jesus asking all kinds of riddles, and, when his Disciples asked for clarification, he’d only give more confusing metaphors about various animals and agricultural crops. Then, out of nowhere, Jesus announced loudly that the wine they were all drinking was literally his blood, and the bread was literally his body thanks to transubstantiation. Some of the customers in the main dining area heard him, and it was a public relations nightmare as our regulars started freaking out thinking we let in a group of cannibals. We had to frantically go around and explain that, of course, our kitchen hadn’t been cooking any human meat. Thankfully there weren’t any health inspectors or rabbi Kosher supervisors around that night! Galilee’s has a pristine reputation, and this rabble-rousing Jesus guy almost ruined it!
They finally finished eating right as our restaurant was closing, and I was hoping they’d wrap up the party quickly, but then Jesus suddenly announced that one of his friends would betray him. He wouldn’t say who it was, but he kept saying over and over that his betrayer was in the room. I was trying to squeeze in to ask if any of them wanted any dessert, but all the Disciples were forcefully denying the allegation and starting to cry. I had to just stand there awkwardly for what felt like a lifetime hoping the subject would change so I could hand out the dessert menus. Unfortunately, they got upset because our dessert special for the night was Devil’s Food Cake.
Then, when all the plates were cleared off the table, and I was waiting for them to leave so I could finish cleaning up the room and go home, Jesus weirdly asked for a busser tub full of water. I had no clue what he wanted it for, but I filled up a tub and brought it over hoping it would get them out of the restaurant faster. Then they started singing hymns as Jesus began to wash all the Disciples’ feet. It was infuriating! The restaurant had been closed for half an hour, and Jesus was turning our event room into a spa! I stood there mean-mugging them all, trying to give them the hint that it was time to go, but they took another half hour. Clearly none of them had ever worked in the service industry!
When they finally got up and left, I grabbed the checkbook and saw they had stiffed me. I ran out the door and asked Jesus what I did to not deserve a tip, and he said, “Blessed are the poor.” What an asshole! The least he could have done is multiply my silverware rollups like he did with the bread!
And the worst part is that he paid the bill with a check, but a day later he got arrested, tried, and crucified. Then the check bounced. Messiah my ass!
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