The guys here don’t want me to say The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse, because they feel the picture and knowledge that this person is actually AmeliaJake would be bad. I think I know why; it is not really a picture that invites one to sit and be happy and eat peanut butter foldovers.
Just think, they got me all dressed up in a pleated skirt, which someone had to iron, and a nice blouse with a locket and I sat there and bawled. They paid money for this memory. I see I was pleading with my eyes with someone over to my left to help me; I think I know who it was.
I have the vaguest, vaguest wisp of a memory of that picture being taken. I don’t know what was so traumatic, but I’ll bet I didn’t get a gold star for my behavior. That hasn’t changed any.