Dear Guy at the Next Table, Part 2

Dear Guy at the Next Table,

Oh dear God, it wasn’t you. I mean, you are you, but you weren’t who I thought you might be. Oh God, now I can’t stop looking over at you. This is horrifying. I want to leave, but my food hasn’t come. I’ve already paid for it, and I’m starving so it doesn’t make sense to leave, but I’m so embarrassed and that would probably just make it worse. This was exactly what I was afraid of happening.

On the plus side you were incredibly friendly about it. My mouth vomit was the worst part. When you told me you weren’t who I thought you were I just blurted “oh cause I was going to ask you out if you were,” before I could stop myself, like some sort of crazy person. I am completely mortified. I wish I could say “I can’t believe I did that,” but honestly it’s so par for the course for me that it’s almost funny.

Okay, now you’re getting up to leave. Why are you coming over here?

Guy at the Corner Table