I met my wife at NWMC. Our first date took place at a cute little restaurant called The Tavern, and it was there that we met the World's Best Waiter.

Nervous as we were on our virgin outing, we didn't fully appreciate the World's Best Waiter for who he was. Sure, he was attentive. And rather than handing us a menu, he recited it from memory. But we were focused on other things, riding the rollercoaster of thrills and anxieties that accompany the first date. To us, he was a very good waiter, but he had not yet scaled to the zenith of waiterdom.

Jade and I fell in love, and carried on a long-distance relationship for a few years until she moved to Boston, where I was going to school. Two years later, we again found ourselves at the New Wilmington Missionary Conference, this time as an established couple. We celebrated our "dating anniversary" by once again visiting The Tavern. Now, keep in mind that we looked completely different. Both of us now had short hair, Jade no longer had braces, and I had had my pesky third arm surgically removed -- we were not the same people at all.

We chuckled when the maitre d' seated us at the exact table where we had our first date. "Look!" Jade whispered to me. "It's our waiter!" Other couples have that special song or special movie. We had that special waiter.

He quickly whisked to our table. "Hello!" he said, brightly. "I remember you two. You were here a few years ago, right?"

Our mouths dropped as we looked at each other. "Zounds!" I exclaimed. "That was years ago! It's amazing that you remember!"

We chatted a bit, explaining that he had been our waiter on our first date. It turned out we had mutual acquaintances, so we exchanged names, and that was that.

Flash forward to three years later, when we once again visited The Tavern for our anniversary. "Now Jade," I told her as we went in, "we must prepare ourselves for a different waiter. This does not mean our relationship is in jeopardy, it just means that our waiter has gotten a real job."

But lo and behold, no sooner had we been seated than he came out once again. "This is getting weird!" I whispered to Jade as he rushed attentively to our table.

"Hey!" he said, immediately recognizing us. "You two had your first date here, right? And your name is ... let's see ... Jade?"

"Ye gads!" said Jade. "Incredible!" We had visited this restaurant thrice in five years. How many countless plates of grilled salmon and chicken coq au vin had he served, and still he remembered us with uncanny accuracy! After our meal, I left an immortal tip for this immortal waiter.

Since the best stories always involve the number three, it was during this magical third visit that he became known as the World's Best Waiter, and we began to tell the story to friends, family, and random street people who would listen without attacking us.

This year we celebrated the seventh anniversary of our meeting by once again dining at The Tavern. Again I prepped us for the inevitable letdown. "There is no way that he will still be there," I reasoned. "It just won't happen. Let's face facts."

And sure enough, this time he was nowhere to be found. We were attended by an extremely mediocre waiter, who made minor mistakes and was not entirely sociable, as if to highlight the true greatness of the World's Best. Jade and I were a bit disappointed, but not surprised, and we had a pleasant meal with good conversation.

When I gave the Extremely Average Waiter my credit card, he left our bill at the register, rather than bringing it back to the table. So Jade and I gathered up our belongings and sauntered to the front of the restaurant.

Suddenly my wife's eyes grew as big as coconut macaroons. "Look!" she whispered, sucking in her breath. And there he was at the register, efficiently counting through checks. Dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks, he had now become the World's Best Manager.

He looked up and saw us. "Hey ... Jade and John, right?" he asked. "You had your first date here."

"Yeah!" I shouted, shaking his hand vigorously. "You're a legend to us, man! We talk about you to everyone!" I turned into the dining room and began shouting to annoyed patrons. "This is the World's Best Waiter, everybody!"

"What are you up to?" asked Jade.

"Well, you probably won't see me again," he said. "I'm just about to graduate, and then I'm going to get my Master's Degree in Communication. I'll probably be moving to Boston."

Now it was Jade's turn to holler. "We live in Boston!"

I didn't try to talk him out of going back to school, but I think it's a mistake. He is one of those souls who have a true calling to waiterhood. I have no doubt that Jade and I will go out for some special occasion in the near future, and there will be the World's Best Waiter, now in our hometown. "May I help you?"

Next: practical jokes!