Table vs. Booth


Following up on my Facebook "Table vs. Booth" post from a few days ago (see: ... OK, first let me say, I respect all booth people. No I don’t, and here’s why.

You boothies only think it's what makes you whole, when in truth you’ve only enjoyed one or two perfect booths in a lifetime, and now comb the earth seeking fellow high back padded lovers, only to find that most booths are "just not that into you.”

A confession: I'm admittedly a full throttle open hearted eat-e-tarian. That’s code for “kind of a pig.” Yes, I live to eat rather than — ugh, hold on … meatball on the mousseeeee paddddddd — got it! Okay, look, it’s simple: the booth does not support my lifestyle. And here’s where you say, “But it does mine!” And that’s where I’m here to help. I give you a choice: you can stop reading now, take the red pill, and continue forth with your disillusionment, or blue pill-up, Boothies, cue some Doors, and let’s break on through to the other side.

Booths are viscously unpredictable. Even the most inviting of booths can belie their inviting appearance; what starts out as a joyous soft landing into leather turns into a sticky butt-trampoline. Sure it’s great for the four-year-old, but I’m too old for bouncing while dining.

The booth is also ridiculously inflexible in form and function. Least enjoyable are the bolted down booth tables that leave an elbow-less chasm between you and your deserted dessert. Okay, sure, there are adjustable booth tables, but after getting a burn in your triceps after man-handling one close enough to lean on, you now have a friend just barely within shouting distance, seemingly sitting alone in a very wide comfy chair. So, yes, of course you split the difference, making you and your guest equidistant from your food and most basic comforts. Again, eating shouldn’t take this much focus and effort, and only the booth — THE BOOTH — the booth is to blame. As noted above, I've always enjoyed scooping without thinking, and booths take too much focus and I don’t enjoy a meal thinking, I sure could use a bib with a big pocket.

Now I can see you fidgety booth people taking notes and developing your counter arguments. And that’s how booth people think. But that’s an entirely different research project that I don’t have the time or the — crapppppppp… another meatball…

diner counter
diner counter

Look, I’m done with this. There is simply only one counter argument for the booth and that’s, well, the counter. Groan if you must, but I will forever pass you by, grabbing the quick, friendly, flexible, dependable table, hearing faint calls of, “We’ll wait for a booth.” Really?!?

Don’t you have better things to wait for in life than things that are 87% likely to disappoint?

ComedyKathryn Lake