Picture a crowded restaurant on a Sunday afternoon with a bustling kitchen operating at a dizzying pace. The “Church Crowd” is a group of twenty-five devout rollers who arrive without a reservation and insist on being served immediately. Not everything goes as planned.
Our main character Kellie, also known online as @ambryrae, took to TikTok to narrate this wonderful comedy after being irate.
In a video that has now gone viral, Kellie graphically portrays the chaos in the dining hall. After informing the Church Crowd that there will be an hour’s delay, they grudgingly agree. However, this patience is as resilient as a donut from a police conference. She was asked to provide updates by one of the attendees, who was channeling the unwavering energy of a boomerang that would not go away.
Upon the completion of setting up their absurdly large table, one of the so-called saints plucked up the nerve to complain about the lack of a personal area. Because, you know, everyone has an extra banquet hall in case the church bus arrives suddenly. Huffy was not pleased when Kellie explained that their little eatery couldn’t fulfill such extravagant requests.
But there’s more than that. Before their salads had even reached the table, one stubborn parishioner asked, “How long is this going to take?” Oh my god, maybe not till you take a seat at your sacred table and place your haloed order?
When their meal finally came, Kellie walked into a real-life musical chairs game. This is no joke. If this group searched for a more fitting metaphor, they could not find one. In an Italian restaurant, a man switched seats and ordered collard greens. Could it be that they mistook it for a multicultural food court?
Just when Kellie thought things couldn’t get much weirder, there was a tambourine-accompanied cacophony coming from their table. They argued that it should remain down during their impromptu, instrument-filled worship session since it appeared like other tables were “in worship.” Imagine that: a public eatery that inadvertently transforms into a church.
The cherry on top was the check, a massive $350 to be split 25 ways. It should come as no surprise that a young churchgoer was unable to contribute fairly. The devout squad commander asked Kellie to “bless” the young man by covering his food, flashing a smile bigger than sugarcoated pie. Really? Supernatural intervention meets financial exploitation.
Amazing, huh? Kellie responded with the ridiculous idea that twenty-five individuals could all spare a few dollars. Reluctantly, the leader paid, leaving a $50 tip and a parting shot. “Well, if you hadn’t been charging us for his food, I would have left a bigger tip.” Because there’s nothing like extorting hotel staff to demonstrate Christian love.
Following the event, Kellie started to have doubts about the church’s teaching. She thought to herself, “I just wanted to know what you guys are learning in church. You guys are some of the meanest, cruelest people we have ever had to serve.” A dark example of the hypocrisy that often lurks under the joyful exteriors of the religious.
What’s the worst part, Kellie’s fix? Think about informing your pastors about church members that behave in an ungodly manner. Now, let’s all enjoy a little drama centered on the Sunday service.
What is your emotional state? Do church crowds actually become that bad? Tell us what you think; we’d be interested in hearing it!
