A waitress after my own heart (standard:Inspirational stories, 956 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Feb 20 2011	Views/Reads: 2983/2054	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I am one who firmly believes the pen is mightier than the sword. Consequently, I have a fully stocked arsenal with every pen and pencil imaginable. I look with a jaundiced eye at the person who is ill equipped with writing instruments. I am fully prepared

A waitress after my own heart Rev. James L. Snyder 

I am one who firmly believes the pen is mightier than the sword.
Consequently, I have a fully stocked arsenal with every pen and pencil 
imaginable. I look with a jaundiced eye at the person who is ill 
equipped with writing instruments. I am fully prepared at all times 
with the exact pen or pencil needed. 

I suppose there are those who feel that a pen can be used for
everything. Sort of a jack-of-all-trade writing instrument. Each pen 
and pencil is designed for a specific job. That is the way I feel about 
it. 

My collection of pens and pencils is quite extensive. Moreover, I am
always on the lookout for a new pen. After all, you cannot have too 
many pens. 

On my dresser in my bedroom is a large selection of pens and pencils for
me to choose each morning. I have enough that I do not have to use a 
pen or pencil two days in a row. Some people have a closet full of 
shoes. I have a dresser full of pens. I think pens are much more useful 
than shoes. 

Back in my office on my desk is another assortment of pens and pencils.
Within easy reach anytime of the day or night I have a selection of 
pens and pencils to choose from, which gives me a good sense of 
security. 

My shirt pocket always has a nice assortment of pens and pencils to
choose. Nomatter where I am or what I am doing is always a need for 
just the right writing instrument. There is nothing more frustrating 
than not having the proper writing instrument when you need it. So, my 
motto is, never leave home without them. 

More than once the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage has threatened to
get rid of some pens. "This pen doesn't even write," she often 
complains, and then threatens to throw it away simply because it no 
longer writes. 

If the pen no longer writes, it should be tucked away in a drawer where
it can rest the remainder of its days in peaceful quietude. Years ago, 
I made a vow, "Until death do us part." And I will not part with my 
pens until I die. 

For a long time I thought I was the only one with this, which my wife
calls, obsession with pens. I believe the word obsession is a little 
strong. I just like pens. Then my wife and I had lunch at a restaurant 
across town. And I was in for a delightful surprise. 

The host seated us and gave us a menu to peruse while we waited for our
waitress. I was expecting just a normal noon repast at this little 
diner. But I was in for a wonderful surprise. 

The waitress finally came to our table to take our order and I was
delightfully amazed. I'm not sure what she looked like. I cannot recall 
the color of her hair or if it was long or short. I could not tell you 
what she was wearing except for one thing. 

Around her waist, was a little apron filled and stuffed with pens of
every description imaginable. My eyes were glued on that magnificent 
sight. I was so mesmerized by the sight that I could hardly order my 
lunch. 

I could not refrain any longer and so I had to put forth my query.
"Where did you get all those pens? I love them." 

"Thank you. It's quite a large collection, isn't it?" 

"How many pens do you have?" 

She thought for a moment and then said, "I'm not sure, but I don't think
you can ever have too many pens." 

I sighed a heavy sigh and finally was able to give her my order. When
she whirled away, I looked at my wife and said, "Now, there is a 


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