At a restaurant in Oregon with my mother. The hostess, a distinguished-looking woman in her fifties, leads us to a table in the middle of the generously-appointed dining room. The table is square-shaped, with four place settings. She sets the two menus down, one in front of where my mother is taking her seat, one in the spot adjacent to her. When I instead sit down across from my mother, the hostess apologizes and moves the menu to where I’m sitting. ‘Now then,’ she says, ‘is there anything particular you two are celebrating tonight?’ ‘Um, no,’ I reply. I find this question puzzling, and I can’t help wondering – not only on account of this, but also the menu faux pas – could she possibly think my mother and I are a couple? And, is the notion that she does so absurd? Perhaps the server has a much younger boyfriend… Other explanations of the server’s question, ones that don’t presume we’re a couple, present themselves but I’m unable to overlook this far-fetched one, which also somehow seems the most obvious, and for the rest of the meal I’m stewing about it.