I have to get a quick lunch one late afternoon which could considerably be an early dinner, but since I hadn’t had one after a bagel and coffee I’d term it as lunch. Upon seeing this small diner surprisingly crowded at that hour, I took the opportunity to fill up my starving stomach. Service was quick as the door closed behind me a smiling middle aged lady met me followed by an inquiry as to the number of people. I was led to a small table right away, while people coming in groups were waiting in line.

“Coffee?” was her first question when I sat and handed the menu, as soon as I replied “yes” she turn around and I just realized it is lunchtime and shouldn’t have coffee. Once in a while, I said to myself comforting my regret, diners have good coffee as I continue convincing myself it’s alright, and anyway I don’t come to a diner all the time, here I am, still pacifying my regrets for ordering coffee at lunchtime at three o’clock in the afternoon.

At a table behind me were two female and a younger male perhaps in his 20’s, the two females obviously were into a heated conversation, each one cutting off each others’ sentence much louder but controlled volume. From the flow of the conversation they sound like a family and I assume the older lady to be the mother, that sort of close relationship, but inconclusive since they don’t look similar in any way.

“I am not understanding you!”, from the older lady almost yelling at the top of her voice followed by silence on both camps. Whatever anger and animosity building during the conversation were sufficient justification to lose integrity and good personality in this crowded place. To get over this conflict, vent out feelings and emotions maybe is their ultimate goal.

People from the other table turned around at the source of the voice, no violence or guns whatsoever, they went back to their own business, their own family. Except me, my head bowed, bothered and analyzing a grammatically incorrect and erroneous use of verb and noun in a sentence.

Although I was figuring out the root of their conflict and hoping to build up a story about this conversation, I knew I heard of that incorrect statement pronounced by learned and more intellectual beings.

For someone not understanding me is a closed book, until I get understood. There won’t be any discussion. This is a classic case of ‘its me, not you’. I want you to understand me, first, instead of me understanding you. Me first, you know. Don’t ask me to understand you. I’m not saying, ‘you don’t understand me’, but I don’t understand that you’re not understanding me, or why you don’t understand that you don’t understand me.

People hoping for understanding in the midst of misunderstanding.

When the waitress came with coffee on my table, I intuitively blurted out,

“Boy, this is too late for coffee”

“You ordered coffee, right?”, her voice a bit pissed off, which I replied with a big yes smile to appease her. The waitress looks tired and weary as she said that she’s been working since o’clock this morning covering up a co worker who didn’t come. I understand that I should stop drinking coffee late in the day as this doesn’t help me at night. But coffee smells so good at any time of the day, you have to understand.

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/understanding/”>Understanding</a&gt;

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