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Table For One, Please

We’ve had an odd visitor to the homestead as of late. She comes and goes by herself, sometimes lazily walking about and other times running through the yard when we approach. A lone turkey hen appears to have been left out of the group of turkeys that regularly pecks about the yard.

We’re not sure if she has purposely left the fold or if she has been banished for some fowl offense. She looks to be young, judging by her size. She does not appear sick or injured. Maybe she’s simply a free spirit, branching out on her own. We watch her until she heads for cover at the tree line as the sun fades into night.

It’s gotten to the point that we kind of look for her to appear when we are out cutting grass or sitting quietly in the lawn chairs after our work is done. We don’t feed the songbirds anymore, because the raccoons, deer and possums have all outwitted our attempts to keep the feeders filled. Maybe the turkey is looking for leftover seeds or suet.

This single bird got me to thinking about how we perceive people who don’t quite fit in with the usual crowd. You know the type. They distance themselves from others. They make excuses not to attend events. If they are at a function, they hide in the shadows. We label them loners, or maybe they are simply shy. For whatever reason, they don’t embrace the pack mentality. They just like being alone.

Then there is the other side of being “one.” Read on.

“Just one?” the hostess inquired. Yes, one, I replied, and was seated at a table. Sometimes, when out alone shopping or waiting for an oil change, I will pop into a nearby restaurant for a quick cup of tea and bite to eat. And, yes, I’m often alone on such occasions. It’s not a crime, but sometimes when a person, especially a woman, enters a place alone, she can be made to feel less important. That thinking should have gone out of style with Miss Kitty and the Long Branch Saloon.

The question is almost always the same. “Just one?” It’s not the fact that the hostess is asking the question. I realize she needs to have a head count for seating arrangements. It’s the word “just” that rubs me the wrong way. Why not simply ask “how many” and leave it at that?

Often I head to the counter seating because it’s usually faster service and there are other one-timers seated there. Some of my best conversations with strangers are at lunch counters.

There should be no shame in being “just one.” Our communities are filled with wonderful people, alone and together, single and attached. There are widows and widowers, divorced and never married folks, all contributing to our lives in their own unique ways. Making any of us feel any less important with that word “just” is, well, wrong.

This isn’t a snowflake issue. It’s thinking before you speak. It’s thinking about the feelings of others. Enough said. I’ll take my seat now, alone.

Heather Ziegler can be reached at: hziegler@theintellingencer.net.

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