But still, I felt truly beautiful, strong, important as I ordered the most expensive item on the menu. I smiled kindly at the young cashier when she got my order wrong, gently corrected her, and waited patiently for my triple latte, feeling wonderful.

No, it was when the danged eleven-dollar thing was in my hand that I looked around and realized my predicament.

Every single table was taken.

I mean, how could every table be full? It was ridiculous…but they were. The only empty chair in the whole place was across from a man who looked to be in his late thirties, avidly reading his newspaper. As quietly as I could, I sat down, hoping he wouldn’t notice. When my chair squeaked, I thought regretfully of the bookstore across the street…but it was too late. He looked up and…smiled? At me? I smiled back, rather shyly.

“Sorry, every other place was taken,” I said sheepishly.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said as he sat up straighter and smiled again.