After arriving back in the hotel room this evening, I changed out of my work clothes, had a wash, and wandered out into the street. For the first time since I can remember, I am not spending a night away from home working in a hotel room until midnight.
I could have wandered to any of the various restaurants, pubs, or bars that little the town I’m staying in, but instead opted for the Pizza Hut within a minute’s walk of the hotel.
Eating on your own is strange. While staying with co-workers is also strange; forcing conversation, not really listening, exchanging pleasantries… being on your own is just odd. The disinterested hipster assistant in Pizza Hut couldn’t even be bothered to deal with me after I wandered in - instead the overly cheerful (and incredibly pretty) blonde sidekick seized her opportunity. Her conversation reminded me of the Barbie in Toy Story who’s smile falls away at the end of the credits. I wondered what she was really like - away from the customers.
She somehow made my choice of table and chair sound like the best thing that had happened all week. I bet she tortures furry animals in secret, and listens to thrash metal.
Mr Hipster eventually made his way over to me, and asked if I had ordered anything over his shoulder in a mutter as he walked past. His straggly attempt at a beatnic goattee was unintentionally amusing.
As always seems to happen when alone, various far flung friends began arriving in my mobile phone, and made the solitary wait for food a pleasure rather than a burden (in reality, if nobody had messaged me I would have sat and people watched - the two japanese girls that ordered a dustbin lid sized pizza became a source of curiosity - were they really going to eat it all?)
I was given a salad bowl with the pizza - apparently I ordered just the right thing to get as much salad as I could possibly eat, if I wanted it. In my head, I found myself slamming the bowl on the table, and screaming at Mr Hipster “DAMMIT - I CAME IN PIZZA HUT TO EAT PIZZA - NOT SALAD!”. Of course I said nothing. I smiled, and he went away to do whatever hipsters do in dead-end jobs, while living out their Generation X existences…