You assume your seat, and despite the presence of empty, well-situated tables, you’ve been assigned a wretched one. It might be next to the kitchen, or in a bottleneck where servers are sure to bump into you, or in a drafty spot next to the front door. Your appeals to the host’s humanity fall on deaf ears, and you’re offered another table worse than the first. Is it something you said, you wonder, or has the greeter sized you up as hopelessly unhip?
Savor the entire Things We Hate series