Hazelnut Latte

This one's for the loners. Although I hope you get that I'm trying to convincing myself a little and there's some angst to it.
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I'm at a cafe and I look like a guy whose date didn't turn up
But who is also at the same time not bothered about it
And it surprises them
For its odd to find someone completely on their own these days
For solitude is rare
And so the people stare

The waiter comes to take the order
And he questions the singular nature of my hazelnut latte
And I reassure him with complete contempt
"I will be here for a while and alone
And it's nothing bad, or sad
For this is just the way I like it
And no, I won't fight it"
And he brings me complementary chips.

I hated the chips  
They were dry and over-spiced
And a speciality commonly ordered in the cafe
And I hate specialities and commonalities.
I don't sympathise or conform with them, you see.

I finish my latte with the express understanding that people will always judge,
And no, I won't budge.
I just won't.
I finish my latte, glass dry
At least I try.
And the waiter as he will, brings the bill.

I pay it all and get my change
And I leave a tip.
A tip good enough for two people.
I walk away alone as I came.