The waiter came from behind me and put the amuse-bouche in front of me. I was sitting at Four Eleven York in Norfolk, Virginia with a small plate presenting a tater tot with crab. I couldn’t hide the confused look on my face as I processed that the fairly fancy restaurant placed the cafeteria style
“I wonder if I look weird to everyone else in this restaurant.” That was the thought that ran through my mind as I sat alone, by myself, with no one at my table in Margo’s in Santa Monica. To the left of me was a table of women gabbing, to my right was a couple