Booth or a Table

There’s a question that I meet
When I go in to eat
And there’s a hostess greeting me,
Wondering where she’s seating me,

“Would you like a booth or a table?”
My answer, of course is both please
Or my dinner will be unstable
Balancing on my knees.

If I just had the table, I’d grow weary
Squatting by my food contrary
To the imagined experience I had
Inside my head when I was glad
To dine at a table.