It's Your Life. We Only Serve What You Order.

MA spoke as IAM returned to the stage.

“In the universe of having what you want, you need to place your order. We have a skit to demonstrate.”

The assistants segued and set up a table and chair in café fashion on stage. They added a red-checkered tablecloth, a rose in vase, and a water glass.

IAM sat, and Vicki, an attractive female assistant in a short skirt, strutted to the table, smiling.
“Hi, I’m Vicki, your waitress. May I take your order, sir?”
“Hello.” IAM looked her over like she was on

the menu. “Yes, can I see a menu?”

“Yes, sir.” She handed him a sheet of paper where in large letters were printed,

“It’s Your Life Café. We only serve what you order. Order with care. What you ask for is what you get.”
“What’s this small print?”
“Oh, that’s our disclaimer. It says you also get what you resist. We don’t serve that, but that’s what most people get.”
“Well, I want more money?””How much money, sir?”
“I need enough to pay my bills and get a new car, a Jag. I want a trip,
new clothes and I want to pay the staff more.”
There was a roar from the table in the back of the room. Fists were
raised in support from the assistants.
“How much would that be sir?”
“One hundred thousand a year to start.”
Vicki wrote that down.
“Anything else, sir?””Yes, I’ll have three new friends, a room full of love and acceptance, some
challenges, lots of hugs, oh, and insights and realizations. And I’ll buy a round of self-love for everyone.”
“Will that be all?”“Yes. Let’s start with menus for everyone,” IAM said.

“Thank you Vicki.” She bowed and the assistants removed the table and passed menus to everyone.