It's like that time last year when I ate at Chipotle by myself; eating alone is never enjoyable--you just sit there, eating, looking around and catching the occasional stare. Because you just know everyone is staring at you: What's that guy doing by himself? He must be waiting for someone. But no, he has only one plate, one drink. It's so pathetic. I vowed I would never do it again, but here I am at Cafe Río, different state, different Mexican restaurant, same old situation.
It's after nine. I'm not even that hungry. I'm surprised they're still even open. (This cilantro-lime salad dressing sounds delicious, but it's so oily I can't keep a grip on anything, a plastic fork or a pencil for example.)
I wish I spoke better Spanish. Maybe then I would call out to these guys in español, "Close already! It's nine-forty-five! Who eats dinner this late?--it's ridiculous. I don't want to be here. Give me an excuse to leave. Just close up shop and usher me out." But they wouldn't listen anyway. Plus my Spanish accent would be so terrible they probably wouldn't even understand me.
So I finally leave with half my meal untouched. It's almost ten. And the strange thing is, that with so much freedom available to me, I head home. So many places to go, so many opportunities, and I make the easy choice: go right on home. Go where it's comfortable and inviting. So free yet still so trapped. And that's the easy choice.
Three guys and two girls in the car in front of me are having a jolly old time. Waving at passersby, leaning out of windows and shouting. I'm smiling. Listening to Moneen, my third cd obsession in Provo: "Sing for love. Sing for choices. Sing for everyone without voices. Sing for love. Sing for laughter. Sing for everyone here and after." So I keep driving and change lanes, and then they come up to pass me on my right and all three in the back seat (girl/boy/girl) lean forward in perfect succession, seriously perfect like it was choreographed from some comedy or something, and they just kind of stare and blankly wave at me, and so I smirk and wave back like, Hey it's just me, thanks for noticing. Then I pull left to get into my turn lane and they pass by again and look backward out their rear window. So what's the big deal? Did you think that you knew me? Well, you don't. I'll just be going home now.
I'm so tormented. Such an artist. But I wasn't the only one eating alone. Guess that just happens.
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