The Black-Eyed Pea

I was going to meet Pam at The Black-Eyed Pea. I didn't like the name of this restaurant. Ironically, I felt like I had a black eye when I left that place. The whole restaurant felt like the size of a large walk-in closet but it was not nearly as welcoming as a closet typically is. I thought to myself that maybe they named it The Black-Eyed Pea because the building was as big as a pea.

As you likely guessed, it was not my idea to come to this restaurant. I walked in and sat down at a table the size of one fourth of one pea. There were far too many tables in the room and there were far too many people sitting elbow to elbow. Maybe, clumsy elbows were why people walked out with black eyes? Just kidding. The ambiance was chaotic and I regretted agreeing to meet with Pam.

Pam had a few nice things about her. I just hadn’t discovered what they were yet. She was a family acquaintance. It seemed as if she had some kind intentions to help my family but I didn’t know all of how exactly. She was a lanky woman. If she had a spirit animal, then it would likely be a rattlesnake. Every time I looked at her, I just thought of a rattlesnake that stands up and does the head bobbing thing that many movies portray. Her hair and skin just kind of made me think that maybe she’d been electrocuted too many times. Maybe, she had grown up on a farm with lots of electric fences? Maybe, the farm life was hard so touching electric fences was her coping mechanism? Or, maybe she didn’t have a good hairdresser?

Anyhow, we both sat down and ordered breakfast foods that were too expensive for breakfast foods. Then again, most breakfast food places are too pricy. I thought again why so many people came there on such a regular basis. Maybe, they just liked the elbow bumps?

As we started to eat, I soon realized, what I suspected all along. This was an intervention of sorts. She started asking questions about my marriage and if it was salvageable. I felt defensive for my decisions that I was in the process of making, or figuring out. Really, none of it was her business at all, but on the other hand, I admired that she cared for me and my family. I expressed my disappointment in the marriage and she seemed to not fully understand my perspective. The fact that she did not understand me was understandable.

Pam had also been talking to my wife. Sadly, for her, she’d become too entrenched and she seemed like she was on some kind of frantic mission to repair a mostly-dead-marriage. She was talking to both sides of the equation and it was just getting more and more complicated.

I just kept thinking to myself. Of all places that we could have talked about personal relationship issues, why did she pick here? The restaurant was noisy with lots of people chattering. At one point in the conversation, I got mad. Or, maybe I was mad the whole time but at this point, I became more aware of it. Rarely do I ever become outwardly mad. I got so annoyed that I banged my fist on the tiny table. For a second, several people around me stopped talking. Their ears seemed perked up like German shepherd dogs. Blood rushed to my face and I wanted to leave. A few minutes later, I thanked Pam for her time, concern, and “encouragement” and then I left. This was my first, and, likely last, Black-Eyed Pea experience.