Random Thoughts From A Restaurant's Table

Sitting in a restaurant hoping that one day the story will change but it never does causes me to be reluctant to any sort of change.Do I change my mind all of the time.Do I want to be here today and not want to be here tomorrow?Do I care what I wear when I leave the house and once I leave I realize that it really does not matter.Everyone always says beauty is only skin deep but so many people try to make the outer appearance match its interior. What would happen if all of the people who are beautiful on the inside went on outer beauty strike? Would any of those people ever find a man or a woman whose attention they could keep long enough for that inner beauty to shine trough?

The reason, I feel, most Americans strive for outer beauty even if they are beautiful on the inside is mearly for attraction purposes. Time has become something most Americans do not believe in squandering. We feel that we must account for every second. So in a society where patience has become a virture destroyed by technology, we no longer take the time to get to know someone if what we see does not cause us to squander those initial three seconds to turn around and ask someone to dinner. In college we don’t even ask for telephone numbers anymore and if we do it is a mobile number. We now say, what is your email address, or what is you IM name—which one do you use, MSN, AOL or Yahoo? Really, why talk to one person on a telephone if you can instant message numerous persons at once. You know what I am waiting for now? The Jetson cars. I know that they are no longer a few light years away, they are mearly around the corner and I have no doubt that I will see them during my own lifetime.

I’m still sitting in this restaurant wondering how I so often find myself the only black person in an eating establishment or in clothing store, or a bookstore. The latter disturbs me the most. Of all of the non-profound thoughts going through my head, the main one right now is, “Man, have I had too much bread today! And I am supposed to be loosing weight.” I wonder how many times in one day those two words go through my conscience, or more frightening my subconscience. That thought scares me! But now it is time for me to go to my car and go do a little home-shopping before I retire to my domicile for the next 48 hours straight, because I feel I have no where to go anyway. Well I will talk to you later. It has definitely been a pleasure speaking with you today...

Oh now someone sitting behind me has sat down with his Dell computer like me and has begun typing. I almost don’t want to leave now—he’s white too. Just like everyone else in here! There are seriously no other black people in here. I don’t know how I feel about that. I almost feel an obligation to stay, at least until another black person walks in so they don’t feel the same discomfort that I sometimes feel sitting here alone. Waiting for another black person could take the rest of my day and I am not willing to wait that long. I must leave now. Until next time. . .

Someone really ought to tell her that she wears too much make-up it makes her look like a queen.

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