I very seldom get lost when I am going somewhere. That is, unless your definition of seldom is every time I need to find a new place. Then all options are out the car window.

Still I need to understand what you mean by "lost."

Lost is a rather relative word. Actually, is anything really lost? I mean, everything is somewhere, even though temporarily it may be misplaced.

I like the word "misplaced," rather than the word "lost." The word "lost" has an aura of finality about it. Being the kind of person I am, I hate to resort to using the word "lost."

Recently, I took a few days off to work on a special project. Right after I settled down in my motel and set up a temporary office, I had a call from a friend. He found out I was staying in the town and invited me to a free banquet on Thursday night.

One of the things I like about any "free banquet" is the idea of free. Those are the only banquets I can afford. And if they do not serve broccoli, I'm in heaven.

My friend invited me to sit at his table and enjoy the program with him and his wife. I prepared for a delightful evening of fellowship and banter. Then I asked him where the banquet was being held.

As it turned out it was only a few miles from where I was staying. Since I had my computer with me, I asked him to e-mail me the directions. Oh, what did we do before computers?

In a few moments, I had the directions to the "free banquet." I love it when a plan comes together.

Thursday night came around and I dressed for the occasion, anticipating a nice break from the work I had been doing. You know what they say about all work and no play. I had worked all week and now it was time to play with a very lovely rib eye steak.

I assumed I could find the place and be there in good time. I did find a place but I found it to be a much larger place than I had assumed.

Not having a printer along with me, I did not print out the directions nor did I have any presence of mind to jot down the directions on a 3 by 5 card. I chose rather to trust my old noodle, which very quickly became soup. If I only could remember the name of the hotel where the banquet was being hosted I would have been fine.

However, much to my consternation, there were at least half a dozen hotels for me to pick from. Silly me, I was prepared for one hotel.

To make matters worse it started to rain, which diminished my ability to see. By this time my ability to think had long ago diminished. I drove around for a while and the more I drove the more lost I became.

Excuse me, I was not lost - I was simply misplaced at the time.

In my state of misplaced-ness, I saw a large flashing sign. I had no idea what it was but it looked like there were people inside and I figured I could get some directions or a least information from someone. I parked the car, dodged the rain and made it to the door.

When I got inside it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then I had the shock of my life.

When my eyes adjusted, I thought I had crashed a pajama party. Not having my own pajamas, I felt a little bit out of place. I assumed it was a pajama party because all the women were walking around in what looked like their underwear.

It suddenly dawned on me that I had walked into some kind of a bar. The only "bars" I am acquainted with are the kind Daniel Boone used to kill. The bar I was in was certainly not my cup of tea.

Undaunted and desperately wanting to get to my free banquet I walked over to the bar and placed my Bible on it. I believe if I am going to live by the Good Book, I should also live with the Good Book. I never leave home without it.

As soon as I laid my Bible on the bar the room seem mysteriously to get quiet and I felt every eye in the place focused in my direction. The young woman behind the bar, dressed in her frilly underwear, stared at my Bible as though it was a curled snake ready to strike. I noticed she was trembling.

"Can ... can... I ... help you," she whispered breathlessly.

Realizing what was happening I took advantage of the situation and casually opened my Bible and slowly turned some pages. The reaction was worth all the aggravation I had experienced up to this point.

She took three or four steps backward and with her arms tried to cover herself. Actually, it was too little too late because I had already seen her underwear.

Amazingly, one look at the Good Book caused her to be uncomfortable. When I thought of her, I thought of a verse in the Good Book. "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." (Psalms 119:105 KJV.)

For me, one good look at the Good Book gives me a good feeling.

About the Author

James L. Snyder is an award winning author and popular columnist living with his wife, Martha, in Ocala, Florida and can be contacted at jamessnyder2@att.net.