The Doorway
Every time? Must this happen every single time you walk into a restaurant? It all starts at the door. It's that feeling you get when you are laughing loudly with a friend when you enter a silent library. It's that feeling you get when you walk onto a brightly lit stage and suddenly can't see the judgmental audience. It's that feeling you get when you are the last one laughing after a stupid joke. That's the feeling you get when you enter a restaurant. Every time.
It isn't quiet inside, like a library. The spotlight isn't on you, like it would be on a stage. Nobody told a joke, and nobody is laughing. So why on earth does it feel so uncomfortable?
The Decisions
This time it's one of those restaurants where you walk down a line and order food as you go. You don't sit down first and carefully examine a menu. You didn't even see the menu until two seconds ago. Now suddenly the overly peppy woman behind the counter is trying to ask you what you want on your sandwich. She isn't having much success, because you haven't even decided what kind of bread you want. Words stumble out of your mouth, she throws a sandwich together, and then pushes your tray down to the next station. You wonder what you told her to put on your sandwich, and resign to the fact that you will find out when you eat it.
Salads? But there's so many to chose from! They want to know now? "Give me just a second," you say, but the server is smiling with a hint of impatience behind her eyes. The person behind you in line is tapping their foot. Looking back you'll probably realize that they weren't, but in the moment it feels like you are holding up the process. Even though they would have probably been happy to have a moment more to decide, you break under the pressure and blurt out: "Macaroni salad sounds nice."
Exhausted now, you tell the man in charge of the cookies that chocolate chip is your choice, because it is the first one you see. This same man is running the cash register, and before he even tells you how much you owe you have shoved your credit card into his hand.
The Consumption Process
You have chosen the table in the middle of the room and take a seat. It isn't the most favorable place to sit, but most other tables are full. You pick up the sandwich on your plate and think "oh, I ordered a BLT." Good thing you like those. You begin eating, and as you chew you look around the room at the other people. Some call it people watching, but really you are just making sure you aren't the victim of others' people watching habits. Even if nobody is watching, you start to realize what it feels like to be a fish in a fish tank who just wants to eat in peace, but rarely gets the chance. You pick up the pace.
Across the room is a group of teenagers, laughing loudly every once in a while. Eating alone is always so awkward, because you feel like you are the loser with nobody to talk and laugh with. This loneliness increases your pace and before you know it you find yourself headed back out the door that started this all. All sensations of anxiety disappear as you enter the real world. This doesn't happen anywhere else. Ever. This is only in restaurants. You'll never understand why you, the extrovert, get so uncomfortable in this one situation. You are the anxious consumer--I understand. Every lunch time, I'm right there with you.
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