Stories for Humans

I had gone by myself to a writing weekend in the city. It was glorious, but a bit crowded in the conference rooms, and I enjoy being alone. So I had stayed longer in my room, luxuriating in clean, cool hotel sheets, thinking about the half day of workshop left and how lovely it was to be on my own.

I should go down to breakfast, I thought. I’m starving. Pulling together an outfit from a small suitcase stuffed with favourites clothes, I quickly ran mascara through my lashes, dabbed a touch of lipstick, grabbed the hotel key and my notebook and headed downstairs. The hotel restaurant was the type that spilled out into the lobby. I found the last table for two and ordered what I hoped would be strong, scalding black coffee.

Through the double hotel doors in front of me a man walked purposefully toward the tables. He wore battered construction boots and shirt with a pocket for carpenter pencils. I watched him approach, talk to the waiter, and look around here and there. The waiter shrugged; the dark-haired man gave one last look around, then turned to walk back out the glass lobby doors. I knew what to do. I waved my arms till he saw me. He approached curiously, cautiously. I said, “You need somewhere to sit. Come, sit with me! There’s a seat right here at my table, and I’ll be quick – soon you’ll have it to yourself!”

Surprised, he thought for a second, and then laughed, “Hey, why not. Sure, I’ll sit here. You positive you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! Please, have a seat and order. I’ll tell the waitress…”

The waitress had already figured it out and was coming over. After he had ordered a fairly substantial breakfast, we found things to chat about.

“Look”, he said, “you really saved me. I come here almost every morning before work for breakfast. We are building houses a few minutes up the road, and I wouldn’t have had time to find another place to eat. There aren’t any other restaurants. I would have gone to work hungry for the rest of the day.”

“No problem”, I laughed a bit nervously. “Just so you know, this is the first time I’ve done something like this. I’m generally super careful, especially around men I don’t know!”

We talked a bit about our lives, our families. I think he was married, but had no kids yet. Probably mid or early-thirties, slight but strong build, named John or Jake or Jamie, something like that. I excused myself to wash my hands. When I returned, he was finishing up. We shook hands, and his smile was big as he said thanks one or two more times and then was gone. I took my time and had another coffee. I was going to be late for the first workshop, but didn’t care at this point. Life was too interesting to worry about clocks and time.

I’ll always remember the cheerful sunlight coming through, the bright orange juice, the crumpled napkins on the table. The bill, paid probably when I was in the bathroom. A mint each on the little tray. Knowing a hard working man had a little easier day because I let him sit with me and break bread, two humans sharing a table, sharing a few moments of life that were made more meaningful. That was the day I invited a stranger for breakfast.