That’s My Table

If you’re at a coffee shop, restaurant, or any other place where seating is not based on a line system, don’t just assume that you’re entitled to the next open table. Regardless of how long you’ve been waiting.

I went into Pushcart, a coffee shop I frequent that is half a block from my place, to do a bit of work. It was abnormally packed and all the tables were taken. There were a couple of dudes hanging out at the bar, but besides that, it was just me. I was looking for a table to ensure I had a seat prior to placing my order.As soon as I noticed a woman put her right arm into her purple quilted puffer coat, I jumped at the opportunity and asked if she was leaving and if I may have her table. She nodded in agreement.

One of the guys that was standing around, talking to his friend, not paying attention, saw me approach the table and wobbles in. Jupiter, as I may call him from this point forward for his shape as an extremely large person. Standing at around 6’4, and almost round enough where he could’ve been one of those people that have to be airlifted out of their homes because they are too large to fit through standard doors and too heavy to ride an elevator.

He looks at me and says, “That’s my table. I’ve been waiting for it.” I replied, “Oh? Did you inquire about the table prior to me?” I had been standing around for five minutes now, and I didn’t see him approach anyone. He was just nonchalantly speaking to his friend. Yet, now that a table was open, he wanted to claim it, “I’ve been waiting here for 15 minutes now.”

There wasn’t a line at the door for seating. There wasn’t a reservation system. There weren’t any signs for first come, first served. It was a free for all. It didn’t matter if you were there for 15 minutes or 15 hours. It was his responsibility to nab his own table. I know this because I’ve been coming here every week since February.

“But you didn’t ask for the table, you’re just standing there. You can’t just claim a table inside your mind, how is anyone supposed to know that you’re taking this table.”

“I’ve been waiting for 15 minutes for that table.”

He actually said “that” table. As in specifically the table we were arguing over. So by his account, other tables had opened up, but he waited….15 minutes….for “THAT” table. To give you some perspective, there are about 14 tables in this place, seating about 30 people, or two Jupiters. He was now just making stuff up to get the table and felt like it was his table mainly based on being there longer. He says, “Ugh, I’m not even going to bother with you.” Then pushing me out the way with his belly. To his credit, I don’t believe he purposely pushed me out the way, it’s just that when you’re that close to Jupiter, when it shifts, everything surrounding it feels the force and tremors.

I could’ve been a complete asshole back to him, this is NYC after all, and the bigger asshole usually wins. He was was just too planetary for me to contend. So I just took the easier way out by calling him names on the internet.