Table for one, please

I am having dinner at one of my favorite places. I order the usual. The server has served me before, he knows who I am. He brings me my peach iced tea, my side dish and then the main entree. I sit here, alone, enjoying my usual. People around me are laughing and joking. The couple next to me, on a date. The guy has ordered a bottle of their fine red wine. He pours a glass for her, she smiles. They look into each other's eyes. They whisper. What are they talking about I wonder. How wonderful it is that they have finally decided to meet? How after many phone calls, texts and emails they have decided to have a meal together, or have they been dating for a long time and they are just having a night out after a long work day?

The other couple, next to me is an older couple. They have been married maybe 30 years. They sit quietly, enjoying their food. Maybe they have had the same conversation everyday and they have ran out of things to say. Or maybe they have been together for so long that they can work like clock work without looking at each other. That awesome feeling you get when you have been with someone for years and that nervous tingling sensation can still be felt in the bit of your stomach?

I on the other hand, sit here, quietly, eating my spaghetti and wishing I was sitting in either table as opposed to trying to make conversation with the server who seems rather extremely annoyed that he just had another group of people sit in his area. He was probably trying to leave early, avoid the dinner rush, with the shortage of people who want to work in the area, that thought was just that, a thought.

I continue to eat my food. The same I eat every time I come here. For some reason I can't bare to order something different. Why can't I? Isn't trying something different the spice of life? But I don't. Like a creature of habit I come in and don't even look at the menu. I order, from memory. Does the server judge me? Does he wonder, why does she come here and order the same food? There's a full menu, hundreds of delicious choices. But I am sure he's glad I order the same and not order elaborate, crazy dishes like people do at starbucks. I am always surprised at the crazy orders people order. I am always glad I am not a barista. I am sure they are glad I don't order that way.

I have finished my meal. The server smiles and without asking gives me a to go tea and the check. He knows. He knows I won't order anything else. "See you next week." He tells me excitingly as I walk away from my table. I smile and wave and start walking away. Walking toward my car, in a hurry because I am embarrassed. Embarrassed that I come here to the point they know me. Alone, because they know that everytime I am here, it will just be a table for one.