Table for One

Who is she? That girl in the corner of the quiet restaurant...a little slice of Mexico in another part of the world. Is she waiting for someone; friends...a lover?

The girl quietly observes the room with gentle yet shy eyes, glistening with a hint of longing for connection. She stumbles through simple german salutations and flashes an apologetic but bright smile at her waitress, who graciously answers in a shared language.

Now the tables are full and glances are being thrown in her direction. Looks of confusion, judgement, and interest flitter in her peripheral vision. The waitress notices her hesitation and approaches with an encouraging smile. The girl orders what seems like half of the menu and loses herself in the inviting flavors. It is enough food for a whole family, but still no one joins her. Despite this she begins to radiate a warmth as she eats, building confidence to match the stares with acknowledgement.

She finishes her meal in true Goldy Locks fashion: not too much, but just the right amount. She pays for herself and heads for the door. Still, no one is there waiting for her. She walks the wintery trail while watching the sun set...it only takes twenty minutes to get back. She opens the door to an old farmhouse and is greeted by her little dog who was alseep on the one folding chair and only piece of furniture in the house. Her dog licks her hands, hoping to scavenge any remnants of steak fajitas. They stay up late sitting on the floor of an empty house, snuggling as they wait for family back home to begin their mornings.

She sings softly as she recounts her first meal in a new country, entirely alone...as her dog gradually falls asleep in her lap, she thinks to herself "I just might be able to do this."