Fred or Vicky?

I feel like a rebel
as I eat alone
in a brick-oven
pizzeria
full of families
and endearing couples
engaged
in conversation
while I just sit
here scribbling
on the back
of a paper napkin.
It is rather nice
for an eatery
in the corner
of a mall.
Even the menus
are olive-oiled.
Dim light glows
from candle-bulbs
through the scent
of garlic bread,
marinara, cheese,
and buttery spreads.
The volume-
its just loud enough
to drown out
spousal smacking.
I sip my wine
and miss my wife
and wax romantic
wondering
why I seem
so much better
at that
when by myself.
If she were here
would there be peace
or bickering
in-between us?
Either way
I think I'd like
to have her
with me now.
Between ups
and downs
like boxing rounds
what we have
is glorious.
Hmmm. . . Yes. . . . .
I must decide
if my next stop
will be Fredrick's
or Victoria's.