Eight of us sat at a long
table. The place was loud and crowded. The mood was festive, with many tables of
strangers enjoying dinner and sharing adventures, although I noticed one
customer sitting alone in a booth. It
was like a dry spot on the slopes, a tiny pinpoint of silence in a sea of
chaos. My view of them was often
obstructed by passing servers and customers, but I could see they appeared
troubled. They didn’t look as if they
were waiting for someone. They just sat
and poked at their food like a child wishing to avoid the lump of spinach
staring back at them.
The back of the shirt on the
server said, “I Love My Job”, and every server had to wear the same statement,
as if they required constant reminding.
Later that evening I thought how
everyone there experienced a different time.
Not unlike the various animals wandering down to the same watering
hole. Some continually looking over
their shoulder for danger, a few oblivious to everything, while one stares blankly at the steaming pile of spinach next to them.
1 comment:
How Sad! I have only eaten in a restaurant by myself once in my entire 80 years and once was enough for me. I prefer to go through a drive through and take it home or just sit in a parking lot and eat my food. Just too sad.
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