Aside from the likelihood of this outing my account, I once had a first date at a renowned noodle house in town, and the surprise rarity of the single table in the front window (converted Victorian, alcove). We order, make small talk, I think it's going great — until movement in the corner of my right eye out the window draws me to watch, in the middle of her sentence, a full-grown adult male climb onto the hood of the parallel parked car and proceed to empty his thrice-cursed bowels onto it like he was putting out a chemical fire.
I recall being unable to look away and catching her attention drift toward my view at the same time the waiter arrived with our lunches, only to table them with an "Uhm. Well." and ghost.
So, not exactly "at another table", but the whole place has front row seats, so 🤷🏽♂️
I raise. Szechuan.