Wednesday was one of those days that seemed to have no end. After long day at work, an extended personnel committee meeting at church was among the last things on my list.

By the time the meeting was over, it was time to worry about dinner. It was after 9 p.m., and I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch; neither had Julie.

Since she was still at the office and I was in the car, I called and offered to just grab some fast food — a sometimes necessary evil in our lives, though we try hard to avoid it.

A quick pass through the drive through and we’d be nourished soon — or so I thought.

The order was placed.

Payment was made.

“I need you to go pull up over there,” the woman at the window said.

Being a relatively impatient person, the “pull up and park” routine at a fast food restaurant drives me crazy.

Dutifully, however, I did as asked. I was simply too tired and hungry to argue. They had food, and I needed some — and they now had my money, too, so they had the upper hand.

And there in the parking lot I sat.

Seconds turned to minutes as I tried to keep my mind occupied.

I fiddled with the radio.

I played with my phone.

I was out of things to do when I started noticing the time.

Perhaps the hunger was playing tricks on my mind. It seemed like an incredibly long time to have to wait.

Finally, I looked at the receipt and looked at the clock. Doing the math I realized I’d been sitting there for more than 15 minutes!

That was it. My patience outweighed my hunger and my blood began to simmer.

I headed inside only to find no one at the counter — blood starting to steam.

After a minute or two, a guy appeared and said, “Can I help you?”

“I don’t think you can. I ordered food through the drive through more than 15 minutes ago, and I’ve just been sitting out there,” I said.

“What are you riding in?” the guy asked.

“Why does that matter?”

A point to mention here is that 9:35 p.m. on Wednesday night the restaurant — inside and out — was mostly deserted so it’s not like I was lost in a crowd.

Begrudgingly, I described my vehicle.

“Oh yeah, I saw you out there, and was wondering what you were doing there,” he said.

“I’d just like a refund,” I continued — my blood at full boil and my brain working hard not to raise my voice and lose my temper.

Eventually, he summoned another co-worker who admitted he didn’t know where the order was supposed to be delivered. Finally, a manager came out — we’re probably at the nearly 10-minute mark inside the building now — and made the refund offering the first, “I’m sorry about this” that I’d heard.

Maybe it was just a hiccup in an otherwise rock-solid system.

It appeared, however, to be a group of people in which none of them cared about customer service or resolving a problem.

The riddle here was not difficult to solve — a bag of food that seemingly has no home, combined with a mysterious car idling in the parking lot.

The whole situation just aggravated me.

Things got put into perspective for me though, a few minutes later. A quick trip down the road to McDonald’s provided excellent quick service.

Halfway through the line, I looked up and the SUV ahead of me had a small, simple fish icon that indicated the owner was a Christian.

Seeing that symbol made me pause and realize how childish I was acting over simply having to wait a few minutes for food. It’s easy to forget just how blessed we are sometimes. And sometimes God has a way of gently reminding us of that.

Kevin Cooper is publisher of The Natchez Democrat. He can be reached at 601-445-3539 or kevin.cooper@natchezdemocrat.com.