Fast-food haiku

[DISCLAIMER: prepare yourself for an abnormal post. Like, not really any ‘thoughts’–just dead brain vomit.  Consider yourself warned.]

So, for some reason, I had an urge to write a fast food haiku–do people write those?

Yes.  Yes they do.  Here are a few of my favorites that I ran across:

Chinese take-out box
It’s a common quick dinner.
Soon hungry again.

[from Cecilia]

or,

Fish is all they serve
At Long John Silver’s drive-through.
That’s so disgusting. 

[This site has a pretty great list of the major food chains.]

More realistically,

The competitive
Fast-food wage, in short, is not
Enough to live on. 

[Found here.  That’s why this is a summer job.]

And yes, someone did actually write one about DQ:

Dairy Queen is Great
The Blizzards, The Malts, and Shakes
So Stop In Today!!!

[Thank you, Milford DQ]

But honestly, we can do better than that, right?

Visored girl greets you.
“We have blizzards, not concretes.
Psst–don’t get hot dogs.”

Mm, not too good. How about…

Welcome to DQ!
Would you like to try any
Of our baked… ITEMS?

Actually, I didn’t write that–that’s the message on our drive-thru right now, and yes, there is a super awkward pause before “items.”

Let’s try one about the kitchen, where I work:

Ask for no-salt fries
If you want them hot and fresh.
Workers will hate you. 

Kidding about the last line–sort of.  We don’t hate our customers. Except for the ones that are super obnoxious, demanding, slow, or forget to tell us they didn’t want pickle on that double cheeseburger and then complain about it.

Alright, alright.  We’ll end on a positive note.

It’s fan-food they say:
We love working as a team
To make your food right!

Less exciting, but probably the most accurate.

Maybe no one else likes haikus as much as I do (honestly, I mostly like them for the ridiculous factor–I mean, they claim to be poems, but they don’t rhyme!  Come on, Asia…), but if anyone shares my strange fondness for them, I’d love to hear some of yours–especially if they’re inspired by the fast-food industry or your job.

Because haikus make
Your job seem more poetic
Even though it’s not.

Be still

Be still and know that I am God [Psalm 46:10].

Today was not a still day.  Today was insane at times–the very opposite of relaxation, peace, calm.

For those of you who don’t know me personally, I got a job at Dairy Queen for the summer, and I’m on my third week of burgers and fries.  Honestly, DQ has restored my faith in fast-food.  No, it’s not the healthiest thing you could eat–neither does it claim to be–but it’s not terrible.  We don’t drop burgers on the floor and still serve them.  We chop our tomatoes and onions fresh every morning (unlike MacDonalds, but that’s another story you probably don’t want to hear…).  Your meal was made fresh–your double cheeseburger hasn’t been sitting on a warmer for an hour.  That would be icky.

Working at DQ has also opened my eyes a little.  Okay, so you don’t get a bachelors degree to go make blizzards, but this isn’t for the fainhearted.  It’s a job that’s high stress–lots to remember, lots of multi-tasking, fast-paced.  There are days like today.  When there are less people scheduled than usual.  When 3 customers come in before I have my station ready to go.  When there are 45 minutes of non-stop orders over lunch.  When the manager and your co-worker argue over the counter for 7 minutes about whether or not the bacon cheese burger is made to the customer’s no-pickle, no-mayo specifications.  7 minutes when there are 3 orders still to be filled for front counter and 5 for drive-thru.

[Whiny whiny whiny.  So Ruth got a job and she’s not used to being a grown up and dealing with life yet.  Yep, I’m not.  Bear with me.]

There are moments when I’m not still.

Today, I was running between the freezer and the fry-fryer (wait… what?), and I paused, mid-moment.  I almost froze mid-air–

Be still.

I was very not still at that moment–of course not still physically, but also not still mentally, spiritually.

Be still.

God, how can I be still?  How can there be any peace and rest in this chaos that is my life right now?

Child, be still.  Just rest.  I know this moment it is hard to slow down and feel my presence, but I’m not asking you to come to me.  Remember, I’m before time and after time.  I created time.  I’m not bound by it any more than I’m bound by gravity, inertia, distance–they’re my creations, not my rulers.  You can’t come where I am, to this timelessness–at least not yet.  Someday.  But for today, you’re in this moment.  You’re busy, rushed, frazzled by the ticking clock, the deadline, the beeper telling you the cheese curds are done.  No, today, I’m not asking you to escape time and be still.  I, the timeless one, am entering your moment and bringing my stillness with me.

I’m inviting you, if you will, to be still.

You’re worried about time–the rest of today, tomorrow, next year.  But closer than that, you’re worried about this moment.  Don’t.

Be still, my soul.  Thy God doth undertake to guide the future [and the present] as he has the past.  Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake.  All now mysterious shall be bright at last.  Be still, my soul.  The winds and waves still know the voice who ruled them while he dwelt below. [“Be still my soul,” stanza 2, by Kathrina von Schlegel, translated by Jane L. Borthwick, inspired by I AM]

The beauty of Jesus’ presence: he is with me every minute, even though he doesn’t even operate in minutes.  He calls me to, every moment, live in his momentlessness–to sense that he is God.

Be still.