Another Bah, Humbug moment

My inner curmudgeon was aroused recently by the latest iteration of the annoying question from a restaurant host, as I waited to be seated:   "Just one?"
 
Yes, I live alone;  and, not liking the bother of cooking for one person, I wind up eating many evening meals in neighborhood restaurants -- alone.   Not fancy dining;  just a quick dinner in a neighborhood cafe or fast food restaurant.

Almost invariably I get some version of the question:  "Just one?"  Often it's indirect:   "Would you like to sit at the bar?," meaning obviously you'd like to watch the game on television since you're alone -- even when I'm obviously carrying a book or newspaper.

Last night was particularly grating:   The Applebee host, who might be described as "having a bit of attitude," greeted my entrance with a studied nonchalance: "Just you?"

My annoyed reply, I'm afraid, sailed completely past this person's limited awareness:   "Yep, ju-u-u-st me."

I grumped silently through my dinner, debating whether and with what tone to say something on the way out.   But in the end, I didn't address the problem, because I was pretty sure this slender, young African-American of rather ambiguous gender presentation is a person in male to female transition.    She's probably had way too many disapproving looks and snide comments -- and probably had sized me up as another disapproving old, white Republican guy, a good bet in my neighborhood.

(Anyone observing me drive up, however, and seeing both the 2008 and 2012 Obama bumper stickers, would know better) 

So I said nothing, except to respond blandly to her "goodbye" on my way out.    That incident was complicated, but I wish whoever trains these staff would tell them that people dining alone don't like to have it announced to everyone in hearing distance.  I don't mind dining alone;  in fact I often prefer it, and I never lack for something interesting to read.   What I do mind is the implication that being alone means I must be lonely.

No, what I really am most annoyed by is the assumption, because I am a guy, that I would rather watch professional football.   If Applebee's can hire a trans person, why can't they get over the stereotype that any man alone must prefer the bar and football to a quiet booth and the book he brought to read?

Bah humbug. . . . .   Or, am I over-reacting?

Ralph