CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND SEATING ARRANGEMENTS

The lunch crowd had settled in, filling the diner with the steady hum of conversation and the clatter of silverware against plates. Contessa stood near the entrance, studying the seating arrangements.

A couple occupied the corner booth, sitting side by side instead of across from each other. A man had taken a seat at the counter, despite there being multiple empty booths available. A three had taken a four-person table but left one seat conspicuously unoccupied..

It was inefficient.

Maggie walked past, carrying a tray of drinks. “You gonna seat people, or are you calculating trajectories again?”

Contessa turned to her. “There is no logical system governing where customers choose to sit.”

Maggie gave her a look. “Yeah, that’s kinda how free will works.”

“Then it is flawed,” Contessa said. “The distribution is inconsistent. Certain arrangements would optimize space and service efficiency.”

Maggie sighed. “People sit where they’re comfortable, hon. Not where it makes the most sense on a spreadsheet.”

“That is irrational.”

Maggie smirked. “Alright, let’s test something. See that guy who just walked in?”

Contessa followed her gaze to a middle-aged man hesitating by the entrance.

“Go on,” Maggie said. “Seat him.”

Contessa approached the man. “You will sit at the counter.”

The man blinked. “Uh—”

She gestured toward it. “It is the optimal choice. Single-person seating, proximity to service, minimal disruption to other tables.”

The man hesitated, glancing at Maggie, who sent him a sympathetic smile.

“Sit wherever you like, Bill.”

Bill gave Contessa a wary nod and slid into a booth by the window.

“Because people don’t sit for efficiency,” Maggie said, shrugging. “They sit where they feel like sitting.”

“That is an unnecessary variable.”

Dennis leaned out from the kitchen window. “Yeah? What about you?”

Contessa turned to him. “What about me?”

“You got a spot you like? Somewhere you always sit?”

She paused. Considered it.

She did.

The third stool from the left at the counter.

She always took her breaks there. It had the best vantage point to observe the diner, a direct line to the coffee pot, and minimal foot traffic passing behind it.

Maggie smirked. “And why do you sit there?”

Contessa opened her mouth. Stopped.

Dennis grinned. “Uh-huh.”

Maggie patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, hon. You’ll get it eventually.”

Contessa wasn’t sure she would.