Simple
I went to an Algerian restaurant tonight, by myself. There's something quite real when you dissolve yourself amongst an overwhelming amount of stimuli - you dissipate and in that act it all comes to you immediately. Once it would have stirred anxiety in me but now it's beautiful, an immediacy with everything. True presence. It's telling, it flickers in and out like a candle flame, I suspect along with your sense of self.
You're not supposed to mix the couscous in all at once, else it absorbs all the broth. It was mostly squash and peas; I added lamb sausage. The tab was $40. I left her $52.
The owner was hosting a dinner herself; there's something charming about watching a proprietor live as a person rather than act as a businessperson, in all the custom of American hospitality. Hell, she picked up my plate like a mother would - only after she downed her wine and finished laughing amongst her friends at her own table.
I am obsessed with us being ourselves.
