The restaurant was busy, the tables seemed to be spilling over with patrons. Every seat at the bar was taken as well, and not by drinkers, by diners.
The food was that good.
The strictly business hostess with the closely-cropped red hair (dye job) caught his attention with what could only be described as a curt smile. She did not welcome him to the establishment - she offered no greeting, warm or otherwise. She just looked at him, expectantly.
"Hi." He proffered. "Table for one please."
"One?" She questioned. "Are you eating by your lonesome tonight?"
"Not by my lonesome by any stretch - just alone."
The hostess starred at him for a long second, then said, "Uhm, okaay, alone. Just the one."
He looked at her as if she was now figuring out the punchline to a joke she heard yesterday.
"Yes," He stated, "the singular joy of enjoying a great meal without distracting banter or constant interruptions."
A small smile formed on her face as she scanned the laminated floorplan that had been taped to the small dias that served as her command and control center. "I have a small table in the far back, over here. The second chair was poached by a table sitting seven. It's by the galley door."
"That would be perfect," He replied. "Perfect."
"Follow me," She said over her shoulder as she grabbed a menu and turned toward the main dining room.
"Gladly" was his unheard reply.
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