I sat alone in my corner observing wall décor while waiting for service.
Noise of patrons enjoying food, fellowship, and freedom blared like a too loud jukebox.
I sat alone in the corner waiting for attention, for relief from hunger and thirst.
A frenzied over-worked waitress whizzed by, pad in hand, yelling, “Be right back.”
She wasn’t and I sat alone in a corner staring at creations that seemed contrived.
The artwork was hastily thrown together as if the artist needed money from the sale.
Their art bored me and my corner grew impatient.
I remained encircled by hurried staff, imperious lollygagging patrons, and bland artistic works.
She arrived with pad readied for choices as if she were doing me some long overdue favor.
Suddenly I longed for more genuine people, the simplicity of home and hearth.
She returned and dispassionately delivered a meal that resembled faux haute cuisine.
Feeling terribly alone I ate in my corner encompassed by noise, paintings, and imagined authenticity.
She magically left the check disappearing as quickly as she came.
Instantly she appeared, snatched payment, and spoke over her shoulder about being right back.
She wasn’t and I waited, and waited, and waited until I could wait no more… finally she returned!
I navigated the crowd leaving behind a din of clinking glasses, clicking jaws, and overtly classy people.
By: Christine Groom Stuart
All Rights Reserved