A Man's Realm

“A party of one.” I could see her puzzle, “Where to seat her?”

I could tell she had been directed to seat lone diners in the bar area (which, in addition to seating at the bar, had a number of high tables and chairs).

“Or we could certainly seat you in the dining area....” she continued.

It was evident that she was doubtful I would choose to sit at the bar. It’s an unwritten rule, you see, for unaccompanied women to sit in the bar area like that. For some reason the bar is a man’s realm. Whatever restaurant it happens to be in, the bar always has a couple of TVs tuned in to nothing but sports channels, and always more male patrons than female.

Nevertheless, a seat at one of the high tables near the window, in the seemingly empty area near the bar, looked inviting to me. I entered and took a seat. The lone male patron seated near the door checked me out as I entered- seeking eye contact....which I withheld.

The room was staffed by a bartender and a waiter. A waiter with attitude. He questioned whether I was by myself, and then gave me a look of mixed puzzlement, distaste, and annoyance when I indicated that I was.

I noted that he wasn’t nearly as brusk with the older couple whom he served a little while later. I’m not sure why he took an instant dislike to me. Not that I was really bothered by it.

The salad I ordered was delicious, and I finished every bite. That’s against some sort of rule, too, you know. I invariably get an amused look, and usually some sort of flippant comment, from waitstaff when they see a profoundly empty plate.

I’m not sure if that would be the same if I were a man. Women aren’t supposed to be voracious.
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