photo credit: achillislandhotel.com
Dinner For One
When you go out to eat lunch alone
be prepared to get seated way back
in the sympathy section
last seat nearest the kitchen
the seat where the servers argue
about who will serve you
then forget you’re there
forget your drink
forget your rolls
and even might offer a newspaper for you to read
When lunch comes they give you the rolled napkin
it has a spoon and knife but no fork
and your soup is so cold
you might as well have ordered gazpacho
because it was sitting in the kitchen while all the ‘couples’
were taken care of first
And something is always missing besides the fork
then you have to remind them about the fork
as the other servers rush by so fast
the breeze cools off the food
and your drink is never refilled
and when you are through
you have to ask several times for the bill
and when you tell them you need change back
they take the change and leave to earn overnight interest
at the bank next door as you watch
your leftovers grow mold waiting for a box
and your legs fall asleep and toes go numb
and you worry about bloodclots dislodging to the heart
The lunch servers leave and the dinner servers
change table cloths around you
and Happy Hour looks happy
except you are not really included
and no one asks if you need anything
And your family calls the police to report you missing
because the last they spoke to you was before you went to lunch
and finally the server comes with the change
and you blow your nose on the napkin and fold the napkin nicely
slipping the tip in between the fold and the snot
and the night crew finally lets you out
and your family and friends are all waiting at your house
crying and hugging you
concerned that you were kidnapped or raped or ran away
and when they hear this lunchtime story
they tell you next time to call them
and they will go out to eat with you
that all you have to do is ask and
you’ll have company
and you will never have to eat by yourself again
and that’s the best part
of eating alone…
abberants poetry 