I Ate Lunch with a Stranger

Whoever decided having class from 10:00am to 1:00pm obviously is not a big fan of lunch. Granted, our lecturer gives us a fifteen minute break to grab some noms before continuing on with the session, but that either involves packing some form of lunch, or rushing out of the building to hurriedly grab some quick bites from the nearest restaurant. Unfortunately, London does not really get the idea of fast food, and I have found will occasionally still wait a good ten minutes before your food will be served. An American such as myself does not have that kind of time, I’m sorry, London, you’ll just have to do better.

In response to this, I’m too lazy to make a lunch prior, because I like just rolling out of bed with enough time to get ready, and thinking about taking the time out to make a lunch is a hassle. Especially since in the morning, I think, well, I can just go after class. This is a very silly thought, and I paid for it today. I did bring myself an apple, but by the time 1:00 rolled around, my stomach would not stop growling. I had no idea how I survived, and I’m pretty sure my classmate next to me heard the growls.

Finally our lecturer allowed us to leave, and I walked out onto the street. My first plan was to ride all the way home and make a meal from the scraps in the kitchen, but then I realized I still had quite a long Tube ride ahead of me, and at that moment, all I could think about was food. Perhaps if I wasn’t so hungry, I would have gone to one of the many foreign (at least to me) restaurants in the area, since there were a lot, but all I could see was the McDonald’s across the street. Put simply, McDonald’s is a genius for putting their store there, and I immediately headed for the golden arches. Yes, my friends, I caved, but you know what? The Big Mac tasted absolutely fabulous and I have no regrets.

I went inside, and as with all stores in London, the place was packed. It took me a bit to finally decide to spend the cash for a meal and soon I had my food in my hot little hands. I somewhat half-heartily decided to eat there, because it really didn’t matter. I figured it would be easier than carrying the food on the Tube in the least.

I found a booth on the side where no one was, which was quite a feat because of how busy the place was. I just made myself comfortable and had placed a few delicious fries into my mouth when a woman came up next to me. Oddly enough, I wasn’t surprised when she asked to sit at the booth with me, because I was actually fancying the thought in the back of my mind. I had almost thought I was selfish to think I should be allowed a whole booth to myself, so of course I let her sit down.

At first, she only read her newspaper, which I think was some sort of Irish paper; she had flipped to some articles too quickly for my eyes to really scan the title. I mostly looked out the window to the street where people were rushing about, but I occasionally found myself looking out of the corner of my eye to the woman. At first glance, I’d say she was in her thirties, but as I noticed, her make-up covered some wrinkles and imperfections that might have made her a little older. Her hair was the color of straw and covered a part of her face as she leaned forward to read. She wore a white jacket that had a sort of red checkered pattern on it and had a scarf around her neck, which I assumed matched the outfit beneath the coat. By how she read her paper and eventually got up to grab a cheeseburger and medium fries, I’d say she was a businesswoman.

For at least fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, we sat in silence. It wasn’t as awkward as it might seem, because it was like we were just in our own bubbles. My mind kept wondering if I should speak to her, especially since I had just come from a class where we talked about interviewing Londoners to help us work on character development, but I had no idea what to say.

In the end, I finished up my Big Mac and stood up to leave. She didn’t even look up as I left. I think this whole situation is proof how so many people can live in a big city and never really connect. Here I had the chance to meet a totally new person, but because of the society, I simply got to enjoy her company for the short time of devouring fatty fast food. In simply one little moment of time, I was connected to woman who I will never see again, and I will never know. We will go on with our lives and probably never think of each other again (OK, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration at least on my part, because I’m obviously writing this post). Still, life is fleeting, and seems even more so in London. My time here as well is now down to four months, and I know before I can even get a grip on living here, I will be back on a plane to the States, with only my memories like the Lady at McDonald’s to accompany me.