Table for Two?

I’m proud of myself. 

I think. 

Okay, I’m a little torn. 

I met my best friend (Willow!) for coffee today. I got there first, and since there’s usually a wait, I went inside to put our names down for a table. 

There was no wait. Sort of.

I was greeted by two people:

“Table for one?” I was asked. 

“No, two.” 

“Is the other person here?”

“No, but we were both driving here at the same time. She’ll be here shortly.” 

“Okay, we’ll put your name in, and when she gets here, we’ll seat you.” 

And my tired brain, cold from the single-digit temps outside (with the wind chill), wanted coffee. 

The perplexed look on my face must have read volumes.  

“It’s the same size table. Must I really wait? I really need my coffee.” 

With that, person one said, “Okay,” and person two tried to explain why they waited, etc. (Company policy, easier on the staff, etc.) Then she reluctantly grabbed two menus, dropped me off at my table, turned her back, and walked away. 

 It didn’t matter that I would have been seated right away (and gotten my coffee) if I’d said table for one right off the bat. 

I wasn’t long before my friend came in to join me. Brunch was lovely. The food and conversation were warm and comforting in the midst of this frozen February. I counted my blessings that we are still able to find time, can afford to do this once in a while, and all the other blessings that are too many to count. 

Thinking back to that first encounter, though. Should I have lied and said, “Yes, table for one?” 

No, that’s not me.

But, maybe. Just maybe. That will be me next time. 

Llivin’ La Vida Llama! (with coffee)

(Image generated by AI)