As a waitress, I serve a variety of diners. People come to Red Lobster on business, for birthdays, on dates, and regularly every week. But some of the most fascinating guests I have had are the ones who come to eat alone. This is because without the conversation with another person, I become their "date" for the meal. I often literally sit down across the table from them.
The first time this happened on my job, it was much later in the meal and by complete accident. The woman barely talked to me as I took her order and seemed very caught up in her own world, but as I boxed up her leftovers, I casually asked what she was doing for the rest of the day. Turns out, she is a professor at the university so I told her about how I had just graduated from UNL. Her face lit up. She wanted to know what my major was and what classes I had liked and where my job was. On and on. I ended up just sitting down and talking for several minutes. She was new to town (from Texas) and taught business classes. She was teaching during the summer to make extra money. It was obvious she was anxious about this move and was very interested to hear what I had to say about my move into Lincoln and how much I loved it. She left the table with a smile and wished me luck at my own new teaching job.
The next time it was the exact same booth. An older lady ordered a steak. She was very polite but also quiet. I delivered a meal to the booth next to hers and came to check on her meal. She was eating very slowly but assured me it was wonderful. She smiled and said, "My dad always ate a steak every place we went out to eat. And so did I. Because I wanted to be just like him." All my guests were enjoying their meals at that moment and so I instinctively sat down. She told me about her father and the farm they lived on. Then she told me about a recent throat surgery she had and how much more she could enjoy food now. She had even overheard my conversation with the booth next to hers (they had ordered one meal). Her husband and her, she said had always thought people were stingy when they ordered one meal to share until they got older and realized they couldn't eat as much anymore. It was so obvious she was missing those she loved (her father and husband) and it broke my heart. But she had a nice meal and I packed her a few of the biscuits she loved for the road.
The third experience was with a woman I felt I had known my whole life. She actually came in on a busy night and I didn't have as much time to spend but every time I came to the table she had a new story to tell me. First, her son and grandkids were coming from Florida to visit. She was so excited and told me all about them. Then, she told me about her mom who she took care of (this was her night to herself). Next, she told me about her house and how big it seemed since her husband died and how she was making the basement into an apartment for her granddaughter to stay in. And even funny stories about how she failed at cooking crab or quit her job of waitressing after spilling on a guest. She told me she'd ask for me if she came in again and I always hope to see her and hear some more stories.
My final story was just this week and it was a man by himself. This one was much different because he didn't really talk to me at all. When I talked to him I saw in his face and posture that he was very upset about something, or maybe just a sad man in general. It broke my heart. I tried to start conversation but he just grunted. So when he ordered a Bahama Mama from the bar and said "Fill it to the top," I decided to take it to heart. I requested the bartender fill it as full as she possibly could. Then I made a show of balancing it and delivering it to his table. "Couldn't fit another drop," I said and it worked. He laughed out loud. He never did converse with me at all, but he smiled each time I came by and that was enough.
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