Never sit opposite a lone diner in a restaurant.
I speak from experience: I am often that lone diner.
There are two techniques that are adopted by LDs (Lone Diners) to while away those tedious minutes that elapse between the order for food and the comestibles arriving. The first is to drown time in alcohol; the second is to observe.
I usually find that a judicious combination of the two leads to the best results. But you should always realise that the seemingly self obsessed LD is probably chuckling internally about his perceptions centred on YOU – the innocent customer!
Today was a case in point.
I had lunch at one of those places that you go to in spite of yourself. It is a restaurant near my flat and it offers a Special Menu which is not cheap but is still good value for money. The restaurant is one of those establishments which make a clear distinction between ordinary diners and customers who are prepared to spend a little more than necessary. There is, in this restaurant, rigid class distinction: menu del dia with bare wood tables; a la carte with tablecloths. The Special Menu classes you as a Tablecloth with a good view of everyone else.
My pica pica courses were eaten with only a view of another LD’s back, but the gap before my main course allowed three other diners to enter and place themselves in my line of vision.
The one great minus point about this restaurant is the tardy service. I like to think this is because everything is cooked from fresh, though the sullen, unsmiling, midriff bearing waitress might indicate that I am wilfully misinterpreting. Delay focuses observation, and I had plenty of time to evaluate my fellow diners.
Two of the trio of workmen who entered the restaurant for a quick meal were rotund and undistinguished (though one of them should speak to his wife about her lapse in letting him wander about in daylight wearing horizontal stripes) and hardly held a momentary glance. Their young companion, however, seemed to be a walking apotheosis (my word of the moment; see yesterday’s blog) of those elements guaranteed to irritate me.
Because of his inclusiveness I will itemize his gaucheries.
1 Wearing thick sided sunglasses indoors
2 Having a snake tattoo under his left ear
3 Wearing two dark, gold trimmed earrings
4 Wearing a large link gold chain hanging low outside his shirt
5 Sideboards extended unconvincingly to join in a thin line of bum fluff
6 Smoking
7 Wearing industrially frayed jeans
8 Parading pierced eyebrows
9 Sporting an iguana crested jelled central hair peak
10 Wearing a dirty brown anorak with fur trimmed hood
11 Being young
12 Wearing an oxymoronic pair of expensive black daps
13 Speaking in that slurred Spanish that sounds drunken
Who would eat their food so casually if they knew that lurking just outside their line of vision was someone like me taking careful note of their lives? I don’t really know if such a list is a credit to my perception or a sad reflection on the amount of time that I have to look around!
Today has been a cleaning day: this means that I push around a floor mop in an unconvincing sort of way and waltz through the flat with the hoover. As a signal honour for the flat I also cleaned the sinks and the bath.
I speak from experience: I am often that lone diner.
There are two techniques that are adopted by LDs (Lone Diners) to while away those tedious minutes that elapse between the order for food and the comestibles arriving. The first is to drown time in alcohol; the second is to observe.
I usually find that a judicious combination of the two leads to the best results. But you should always realise that the seemingly self obsessed LD is probably chuckling internally about his perceptions centred on YOU – the innocent customer!
Today was a case in point.
I had lunch at one of those places that you go to in spite of yourself. It is a restaurant near my flat and it offers a Special Menu which is not cheap but is still good value for money. The restaurant is one of those establishments which make a clear distinction between ordinary diners and customers who are prepared to spend a little more than necessary. There is, in this restaurant, rigid class distinction: menu del dia with bare wood tables; a la carte with tablecloths. The Special Menu classes you as a Tablecloth with a good view of everyone else.
My pica pica courses were eaten with only a view of another LD’s back, but the gap before my main course allowed three other diners to enter and place themselves in my line of vision.
The one great minus point about this restaurant is the tardy service. I like to think this is because everything is cooked from fresh, though the sullen, unsmiling, midriff bearing waitress might indicate that I am wilfully misinterpreting. Delay focuses observation, and I had plenty of time to evaluate my fellow diners.
Two of the trio of workmen who entered the restaurant for a quick meal were rotund and undistinguished (though one of them should speak to his wife about her lapse in letting him wander about in daylight wearing horizontal stripes) and hardly held a momentary glance. Their young companion, however, seemed to be a walking apotheosis (my word of the moment; see yesterday’s blog) of those elements guaranteed to irritate me.
Because of his inclusiveness I will itemize his gaucheries.
1 Wearing thick sided sunglasses indoors
2 Having a snake tattoo under his left ear
3 Wearing two dark, gold trimmed earrings
4 Wearing a large link gold chain hanging low outside his shirt
5 Sideboards extended unconvincingly to join in a thin line of bum fluff
6 Smoking
7 Wearing industrially frayed jeans
8 Parading pierced eyebrows
9 Sporting an iguana crested jelled central hair peak
10 Wearing a dirty brown anorak with fur trimmed hood
11 Being young
12 Wearing an oxymoronic pair of expensive black daps
13 Speaking in that slurred Spanish that sounds drunken
Who would eat their food so casually if they knew that lurking just outside their line of vision was someone like me taking careful note of their lives? I don’t really know if such a list is a credit to my perception or a sad reflection on the amount of time that I have to look around!
Today has been a cleaning day: this means that I push around a floor mop in an unconvincing sort of way and waltz through the flat with the hoover. As a signal honour for the flat I also cleaned the sinks and the bath.
Domesticity, thy name is Stephen
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