The Short Order Cook Who Predicted the Pandemic
Several months before the pandemic, I sauntered down Pico Boulevard near my Los Angeles apartment and found a dreary little coffee shop with a 1950s-style marquis. I sat at the counter and a rail-thin waiter with a goatee and a slew of tattoos poured me coffee.
“What you having,” he asked.
“Two eggs, toast and a side of bacon. Make ’em scrambled.”
I was the only customer, convenient since the waiter was also the cook. As he prepared my breakfast, I dove into the book I was reading, Feet of Clay by Anthony Storr. I was halfway through a chapter about Bhagwan Rajneesh, the spiritual conman who loved Rolls-Royces and Rolexes. The waiter returned. My plate was bursting with food, way too much for one person.
“This is two eggs,” I asked.
“They’re big eggs,” he smiled. “What you reading?”
“It’s about gurus and false prophets,” I told him.
“Ah yes,” he said. “They come in sheep’s clothing but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. Matthew 7:15.”
I perused his arm tattoos. His left bicep portrayed Jesus with the Biblical reference John 3:16. His right bicep showed Saint George atop a horse slaying a dragon. Below this were the words “Saved by Grace.”
