in the computer system at work, the abbreviation for quesadilla of the day is QOD.  when someone orders it and i punch it in, it prints up in the kitchen and on people’s tabs as QOD.  there are all sorts of sillly abbreviations in our system, most of them for beer and for wine with long french names, and all of them in capital letters.  milk’s in the computer as COW JUICE.  fruit crisp is CRISPY.  cappuccino, maddeningly, prints up as CAPICCNO.  QOD, though, is wierd.  when i print someone’s check, i glance over it to make sure it’s correct before stuffing it in a plastic folder and taking it to the table.  in the restaurant half-light, the dot-matrix letters are hard to see, and i always read QOD as GOD.


as i was printing a check at the computer last night, i turned to one of my coworkers and said, “whenever i see QOD i always think it says GOD.”
“really?  that’s funny,” she said.
“and i’m like, ‘so that’s what became of god.  i was wondering where he went.’ ” i said, slipping the check into a folder.
“this is where he’s been all along,” she said.  “you’re selling him.”