Booths

Picture this: you and your significant other have just arrived at the local bar and grille to grab a bite to eat. The young hostess greets you with a mouth full of metal and cheerfully chats you up as she walks you and the love of your life to the corner of the bustling restaurant. As she places your menu's on the table with a smile, you find yourself suddenly forced to make a decision. Don't panic. You are about to experience the age old booth dilemma.

FALSE.

There is no dilemma and no decision to be making here. There are two of you. There are two sides of the booth. Done.

Sitting on the same side of the booth makes for awkward conversation. I don't mean that you talk about awkward things (although you probably do, to be honest, because you're clearly weird), but I mean that you have to basically break your neck to look at the person while you're speaking. And isn't conversation a big part of going out to eat? If I didn't want to speak to the person I was going out to eat with, I would have gotten us Subway and sat on the couch at home while OD-ing on reality TV.

If you're on the same side of the booth as someone, you're immensely cutting down on personal space, as well. I don't care how in love you are with someone, you don't need to be breathing on them while they eat their chicken parm. Imagine all the elbow room you'd have if you just sat on the other side of the table like a normal person?

By the way, it's disgusting if you're sitting on the same side of the booth with the intention of invading personal space. I'm talking, like, heavy-petting and that sort of thing. News flash, nymphos: everyone know what you're doing, and it's gross, so stop.

- CK