Catfish and Satisfaction

Maybe I’m the only person in here who isn’t satisfied with a mediocre life, I thought.

I was surrounded by people, laughing and eating tons of fried food and having their idea of a good time. I was angry.

Everyone in here has probably lived in the same place all their life. I wondered if anybody has ever even wanted to travel away from the south. That in itself made me mad. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why anyone would ever want to be stuck in this stupid place for their entire life. There was so much more than farms and rednecks and…

Fried food, I thought, pushing the catfish away from me in disgust. How on Earth could anyone be so, so satisfied? It was ridiculous.

As my eyes scanned the room, another image caught my eye. An old lady, apparently a grandmother, had just sat down at a table across the room with a small infant. She was soon joined by a man, who was about the same age as her. They sat there, feeding the baby and talking, just talking. The entire time I watched them, the smile that they both had plastered on their faces never faltered for a moment.

I sat back in my chair. Not only were these people satisfied, they were genuinely happy. I smiled to myself. Maybe there’s more to some people than I can see by watching them eat dinner.