flashbacks collide with mimicry

we fed eggplant parmesan to a feral cat climbing a palm tree,
but this is beside the point.

the point is that as we left i pointed to a man eating at a table alone and told a story. my story was that he was just off work and sad and lonely and wifeless and childless and petless and loverless and that this is a ritual for him, that he makes meaning out of these solitary meals sitting in front of Whole Foods on a Monday night.

this man's wife or partner or lover was not out of town becuase he had brought his iPod with him. this indicated, to me, a routine and normalcy. perhaps he eats occasionally elsewhere, perhaps he sometimes grabs a beer with his co-workers, perhaps every once in a while he goes to the movies alone.

but i don't think so.

my story is that this man is making meaning in his life as best he can and, in the end, am i any different?