Sitting alone with my thoughts. Staring alternately at the door across the restaurant, which was not going to open (or if it did, it wouldnt be by the person I was looking for), and the half-eaten plate of food and abandoned silverware laying askew around it. The din of restaurant noises couldn’t drown them out. Conversations and laughter around muddled into a blur of voices. Overhead on the speakers, an Allman Brothers song entered minute ten.

A moment later, the waitress nervously approached, obviously aware of the awkwardness hovering at the table, doing her best to hide that fact from her face. “Can I get you anything… more water? the…check?” she squeaked out, barely fighting back a wince.

“Not just yet, thanks.” I hoped my wan smile would cut the palpable discomfort in the air, knowing it was failing. She nodded and backed away, leaving me back alone. With my thoughts.

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