I was chatting with the girl who rang me up for the pizza when another gentleman walked in to pick up his order. I turned and said hi and noticed that, in spite of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a beard, he was either Amish or Mennonite. His pants were handmade, that I could tell easily, and his hat was identical to the hats that both Amish and Mennonite men wear, but I wasn’t sure about his coat. It sort of looked homemade, but I wasn’t certain. I assumed he was Amish.  The way he talked to the clerk who cashed him out told me had been there a number of times before.  He paid for his two large pizzas and two 2-liter bottles of soda and left.

I turned to the clerk and asked her if he was Amish.

“I’m pretty sure. Yeah”

I was immediately curious. “The Amish order take out pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “They order a ton of pizza. Easily a hundred dollars worth at a time.”

At first I was really surprised, but then I remembered that I had seen their horse and buggies parked outside the dentist’s office, the grocery store, and the bank. And back when I was pregnant with Littlest One, I saw a couple of pregnant Amish women in the waiting room at my OB’s office. So why not the pizza place, too?  Just like the rest of us, the Amish women want a break from cooking once in a while, too.