Eating at the counter

I have very seldom eaten at a restaurant counter. When I was working in an office, I either brown-bagged it, or occasionally was taken out to lunch by a company representative, or possibly a vendor. Once or twice Barbara and I would go to a restaurant for dinner, and be given the choice of waiting for a free table, or sitting at the counter. I can only remember one occasion on which we chose the latter course.

However, there is one counter at which I more frequently eat: our kitchen counter. I do this when I am alone within the house, and prepare my own lunch. It seems too much of a drag to take a plate of food into the dining room, pull out a place-mat, and sit down there, all alone. I'm really happier standing up in the kitchen, where I can reach the food that I choose to eat, and pour myself half a glass of orange juice.

When I do stand up to eat at our kitchen counter, I tend not to try to read something, or even listen to NPR. I don't bolt down my food, but I do tend to eat somewhat more rapidly than usual. I guess this is because of a lingering sense of guilt, a way to limit my chance of being "caught"--as by Barbara--who has been disapproving on the couple of occasions when she has observed me eating this way.