Meet Me in the Middle
This week I met two different friends at restaurants in New Kent County, where there are slim pickings unless you like Wendy’s.
I was too enthralled to remember to take my own photo of Sun’s Cafe but here is one from 9 years ago I found on the internet. I guess this was when the gas pump was in its heyday.
This week I met two different friends at restaurants in New Kent County, where there are slim pickings unless you like Wendy’s. Sarah chose a place equidistance between our houses but when I was a few minutes away, she called to say, well, it’s a food truck not a cafe. But, she said. I found another place. Safari Coffee Christian Ministry!
Yay! I said That sounds great!
Do you think they’ll try to convert us? she asked.
I hope so, I said.
We both burst out laughing when I pulled up next to her in the parking lot. Just inside the doors of Safari Christian Ministry Coffee stood a full-grown taxidermied black bear. Don’t worry, we’ve already fed him! a barista yelled from the back. Oh my God, Bear I’m so sorry they did this to you, I whispered.
Maybe he died of natural causes? Sarah asked.
Maybe? I said, but thought of how many gunshots I’ve heard out here in the last week alone.
The rest of the café was decorated with Bible verses you could select from the wall as well as actual Bibles. We took our paper cups emblazoned with maps of the world to a table in the back. A couple with a special-needs teenager sat down next to us, and as Sarah and I bandied about words like transformational, spirit, and sacred space, he began to sing a song composed of realistic belching, gagging, and throwing-up sounds. Sarah and I dared not make eye contact lest we lose our shit and get damned to hell.
After the family left, a woman in business casual sat behind Sarah and started mumbling curse words under her breath, like damn, bitch, and motherfucker. So basically, Sarah and I had the best coffee date of our lives.
The next day I had lunch with my friend Niki at another restaurant in New Kent County, again 45 minutes from her house and 45 minutes from mine. I knew we were in for a treat when I saw that the menu included both sushi and cheeseburgers.
It was a charming but rickety yellow farmhouse with an old busted-up gas pump and neon lights out front. Inside, the atmosphere was so understated I couldn’t tell if there was one. Niki and I spent a lot of time studying the menu before ordering Bulgogi bowls, a sweet potato roll, and something called monkey brains that we had to order for obvious reasons. As we waited for our food we discussed our biggest dreams, our boundaries, and our breakthroughs. The food turned out to be absolutely delicious. The monkey brains, best of all.
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