We locked eyes, but only briefly.

There's only one table left and, technically, I'm closer. I walked in the back door, though. For all I know, the person walking towards me had been doing so to claim the vacant hightop along the brick wall. Maybe they'd walked in the front. Or, they could've had a table in the hall and wanted to snag this one now that it'd opened up.

My feet slow to a shuffle and I look around. No open tables... but there is a couch seat. This guy walking towards me, I figure he's in his forties. He's wearing a crisp shirt and  he's carrying a backpack, so I'm betting he's here to hunker down and get some work done.

Shit.

Normally, I'd put my stuff down to claim a table before going to grab coffee, but my shuffling feet steer themselves toward the counter at the last second. It's all yours, friend. I sigh, feeling it pass through my mustache. It's fine. I'll just get a coffee and sit on the couch until something opens up.

That was the plan, anyway. Well, the new one. But after reaching the counter, I see crisp shirt and backpack guy strolling out the door. Wait, he didn't take the table? A final scan tells me that no one else is vying for the hightop, so I follow my feet and drop my bag and my jacket in a chair at my new table along the brick wall.

Then I turn back to fetch some coffee.

* * *

When's the last time you competed with someone who didn't know there was a competition or that you were involved?

onward.

For more on this daily column, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.