Seems like a long time
Since the waiter took my order.
Grimy little luncheonette,
The snow falling outside.
Seems like it has grown darker
Since I last heard the kitchen door
Behind my back
Since I last noticed
Anyone pass on the street.
A glass of ice-water
Keeps me company
At this table I chose myself
Upon entering.
And a longing,
Incredible longing
To eavesdrop
The I-person could choose a table himself when entering, so it probably wasn’t very crowded, nor did he have to make a reservation first. Also: the waiter didn’t lead him to a table, which is normal at restaurants, so one may wonder if this is a shabby place.
The Partial Explanation