Every meal a feast

I think that what the man was telling me is that sharing food, joy and pleasure is a higher expression of humanity - of manhood - than merely eating for sustenance, selfishly, in solitude. I don't disagree with that. But you have to work what you've got. No?

I shoveled yesterday's snowfall this morning. It was an effort. Then I drove out to my son's house and we went to the Chinese restaurant, run by two very hard working sisters, for lunch. They've had to cut their staff down to immediate family but they've so far managed to stay open through the pandemic. We go there because it's not crowded, the food is good, and we like the sisters. We're regulars. 

Today, there was a couple sitting in the booth behind me. I heard them ordering and making small talk. I remember thinking there was something fake about the way the man was talking to the woman. Like he was placating, or managing, her and trying not to verbally step in any shit.

Before long, the woman stood up and said loudly and rather rudely to one of the sisters, "This isn't black bean sauce! It's sweet and I don't want this!" 

My son's eyes narrowed and he shook his head slowly in recognition and disapproval. I felt my face go red and my anger rise. I felt that vicarious shame for another privileged, entitled, white person who believes it is her right to speak to someone that way over something so trivial. 

Our friend tried to provide an explanation. She humbly tried to make things right for the complaining woman. She replaced the order and apologized repeatedly. The woman wouldn't even acknowledge the apologies. She continued to be rude and entitled or witholdingly silent each time she was given an opportunity to be graceful. The man joined her. He wanted their rice replaced because it had cooled in the time it took to replace the main course. He had the same tone in his voice. Like he was talking to someone less than. 

My son's fortune cookie told him he would have the opportunity to learn something new today. He told me he was pretty sure he'd received the lesson. 

So, to the man I mentioned at the outset of this post, I'd say, solitary joy is still joy. And, sadly, not all company is good company.