Thursday, February 23, 2006
Assigned Seats
One of the things about going into an establishment on a regular basis is that you get into the habit of going to the same general area every time. If you do as often as I do, it almost becomes funny because people talk about "Your seat". It's not a problem most of the time, after all, all of the seats at the bar will still get you a beer, but sometimes it becomes funny.
I went into my usual watering hole this evening, a bit later than usual, and there were people there who evidently didn't understand the seating chart. As such about half of the regulars, me included were out of our seats.
I pick the spot I usually sit at because of some small residual paranoia that have which means I don't like sitting with my back to the door. (I think I picked it up by watching too any cowboy movies as a youth) But the seats that were available were on that side of the bar. I mean I could have sat on the regular side but that would have meant sitting between a guy I find annoying and another I find even worse. So I sat on the "wrong" side of the bar. No big deal.
The bartender (whom I have a long unrequited desire for) mentioned that I was on the wrong side. So did a couple other regulars, one of whom was in "my" seat. Of course as soon as there were enough spaces on the other side, I moved my stuff to get on the "right" side, even though it was at the other end of the side I usually sit on.
It's no big deal, but why do all these other people come into my bar and mess with things? I know that's an irrational thought but it still occasionally comes up when situations like this occur. It's like the guy who walks into a strange church, hours before the service. There is no other person in the church but him as he sits there, pondering the mystery that is God. Not another soul is around. About an hour before the service, a little old lady walks into the church and approaches him. He thinks that she is going to welcome him to the community.
"Excuse me, you're in my seat."
Sometimes I feel the same way.
I went into my usual watering hole this evening, a bit later than usual, and there were people there who evidently didn't understand the seating chart. As such about half of the regulars, me included were out of our seats.
I pick the spot I usually sit at because of some small residual paranoia that have which means I don't like sitting with my back to the door. (I think I picked it up by watching too any cowboy movies as a youth) But the seats that were available were on that side of the bar. I mean I could have sat on the regular side but that would have meant sitting between a guy I find annoying and another I find even worse. So I sat on the "wrong" side of the bar. No big deal.
The bartender (whom I have a long unrequited desire for) mentioned that I was on the wrong side. So did a couple other regulars, one of whom was in "my" seat. Of course as soon as there were enough spaces on the other side, I moved my stuff to get on the "right" side, even though it was at the other end of the side I usually sit on.
It's no big deal, but why do all these other people come into my bar and mess with things? I know that's an irrational thought but it still occasionally comes up when situations like this occur. It's like the guy who walks into a strange church, hours before the service. There is no other person in the church but him as he sits there, pondering the mystery that is God. Not another soul is around. About an hour before the service, a little old lady walks into the church and approaches him. He thinks that she is going to welcome him to the community.
"Excuse me, you're in my seat."
Sometimes I feel the same way.
