But he didn't really have anyone to do that with. And he'd have had to struggle to hand the money to the waitress, saying don't take it from him. Of course it would have been nicer if someone were sitting down across from him and laughing with him, if there had been someone to argue with over the check.
Other people would be sitting there in twos or threes, laughing, or tasting each others food, or fighting over the check, while Myron sat by himself eating his healthy start- orange juice, muesli with honey, decaf double espresso with warm low fat milk on the side. Even prisoners get a daily walk in the yard, don't they? At the cafe, they always gave him a table set for two and sat him across from an empty chair- always, even when the waiter specifically asked him if he was alone.
Every morning he made a point of going out for breakfast. Every night in the months after she had left him, he'd fall asleep in a different spot- on the sofa, in an armchair in the living room, on the mat in the balcony like some homeless bum.