i Arrived

I arrived on the intersection of 17-92 and 436 with the sun hiding itself between light storm clouds that were swollen with water but not quite willing to let it go. There were between thirty and forty men, women and children stretched between the four corners of this busy intersection holding signs, attracting the attention of hundreds of cars passing by. I was immediately drawn to a man giving instructions to a woman who had arrived moments before me on how to hold the signs she had been trusted with so that they may be seen by traffic heading in two directions. The constant stop and go of traffic along with the offbeat honking and occasional shouting set the score for this event. I noticed a lonely girl carrying a five gallon water cooler from corner to corner offering a drink to those dedicated to their service. Each person held either one or two signs depicting gruesome photographs of aborted fetuses. These people were focused and intent on delivering a message that seemed to go against mortal law as well as our current presidential administration. Children as young as two were sitting patiently inches from the curb only slightly attended as their parents were either holding signs or shouting through megaphones. Many people passing by honked in approval boasting their support with cheers, holding their thumbs high in the air while others shouted their disapproval.

I felt as if I were standing on the front lines of a war surrounded by soldiers protecting themselves behind five foot shields that were cleverly designed to attract and distract the enemy. These people were guarded, their eyes set back showing no emotion as if they were willing to die for their cause. I was sure they would pick me out immediately and ask if I was for or against them, but quite the opposite happened. I was ignored as I passed from corner to corner. These people paid me no mind, not so much as a glance. I felt completely in the middle with my own opinions and questions irrelevant to what was going on around me. There was an organized flow that I could not interrupt. I entered this battlefield somewhat scared and opinionated but left confused. I agree with their anger and I may agree parts of their Pro-Life theology but I do not agree with their attempt. I watched the faces of many children in the cars passing by with their eyes locked on the photographs of these deformed mistakes and it made me sad. Children should not be exposed to such graphic horror and unfortunately the Pro-Life group throwing this protest did not agree. They compared their signs to Hollywood Horror movies that millions of Americans ingest daily but I cannot relate.

When I was young I participated in a Pro-Life rally with my parents through a church group. I felt like I was making a difference by speaking on behalf of those who could not speak yet. I was possibly giving life to a baby that might not have had the chance to breathe and experience this world that I enjoy so thoroughly. Now, maybe jaded by my life experiences I cannot feel comfortable telling someone how to deal with their personal situation and that God disapproves. As a child holding an anti-abortion sign on the side of the road I meant well, but was but a pawn and knew nothing of what abortion was. These people are passing judgment on one another in the name of a God that most people have never seen or heard. I want to shout back at them and tell them to focus on their own children who are sitting idly by the curb or walking six lanes of traffic to offer water. These children are blindly involved in their parent’s mission to convert others to their belief. I cannot sit comfortably amongst this crowd of self proclaimed warriors of the truth and trust that they know what they are doing. I love the anger these people have and they energy they put into challenging others beliefs but their actions are flawed. This assignment challenged my beliefs and that was quite uncomfortable.

the Lights Are Low

The lights are low and individual tea-light candles are burning on each of the eleven dinner tables that are placed strategically throughout the small room for maximum efficiency. The front of the building was facing west and the low setting sun gave what it could to light the restaurant with a rich orange color that made shadows dance in the corners and illuminated every speck of dust in the air. I was what I suspected to be the second table to arrive for the evening as an elderly couple had arrived before me and was without conversation enjoying their split entrée. Their body language suggested they could speak to each other without words, or maybe in their age and knowledge of each other there was just nothing left to say. The radio was drowning out any leftover noise from the employees moving about doing their jobs as people arrived into the restaurant. The song that most stuck out I recognized as Tony Bennett singing Chicago. The mood of the music was light and as people filled the restaurant they did so with smiles as if they expected this evening to be a good one. The Chef and his assistant moved busily throughout the kitchen anticipating each other’s moves, working in silence as if the silence was their rhythm that could not be broken. The music heard so clearly before was now suffocating beneath the heavy rumble of laughter and communication as people enjoyed themselves sitting around their tea-light candle, most with a bottle of wine. I finished my glass of wine, paid my check and was set free to leave the warm walls of this sheltered confine.

When I first entered the restaurant I felt as if I were in a movie. The lonely coffee shop lost in time amidst the busy sidewalks of a downtown area that only those searching for can find. When the door shut behind me as I entered the restaurant the air was warm and still. I felt a small comfort when I was greeted at the door by the hostess. She was polite and gracious as to make me feel at home. What she did not know was that I frequent these types of places because here I am most comfortable. Sitting in my corner of the restaurant I am able to observe, relax and enjoy all of what goes on around me. When the waiter greeted me I noticed his fingernails were a bit long and his apron needed to be bleached. He was extremely polite and well educated on the menu which made me happy. Sometimes single patrons are treated with a certain level of annoyance because the wait staff knows they will not receive the same tip they would have got if that table had been made up of four people. As bodies started filling the tables around me I could smell aromas of the kitchen drifting between the tables making my mouth water. I enjoy that no one here knows my name, where I’m from or what I do. I am reminded of living in Philadelphia. Then, I felt as if I were in my own bubble moving in and out of the foot traffic watching and trying to capture each moment as it came. Now living in my home town of Orlando where nothing seems as exciting as it should, I feel I have to search for these types of experiences and within restaurants I have found my sanctuary.

Growing up I was not exposed to restaurants outside of Denny’s or Quincy’s other than the occasional celebratory visit to the Olive Garden. My family was made up of four children, two parents and a single income. The true experience of dining out was left to my imagination until I arrived in Philadelphia at the age of twenty-five. This is where I was able to gain employment at a private club ranked within the top five of all city clubs in the United States. I was given a position running food from the kitchen to the dining room and within a month was promoted to train as a server and gain full entry to the Fine Dining room waiting on captains of Industry, the people that truly ran the city of Philadelphia. I was able to experience a culture that I had never seen and only heard about through movies. I have given service to Generals from multiple countries, numerous politicians, I assisted with a dinner presented to President George W. Bush and some of the richest people in the world. I am proud that something so exotic and frightening to me has become where I feel most comfortable. Places like this small restaurant full of professionals and people enjoying an escape from their daily routine are where I can enjoy my own escape and I’m proud of that.