I’m sitting in a restaurant looking around and wondering something that suddenly feels like one of life’s great mysteries.

How does the world actually work?

Not in a philosophical way. In a practical way.

There are multiple tables in front of me. Forty people. Maybe fifty if we count the couple who appear to be on a first date and the gentleman aggressively explaining cryptocurrency to a woman who looks like she would rather be home reorganizing a drawer.

And I find myself thinking…how the hell did all these people get here?

Not geographically. Obviously, they drove or walked or followed Google Maps while arguing about parking.

I mean existentially.

How did these exact humans end up sitting across from each other eating salmon and discussing summer plans along with the pros and cons of cancelling their Middle East vacation.

Did they meet in college? Online? At work? At a gym class neither of them wanted to attend? Did someone’s mother say, “You should meet my friend’s son, he’s very nice”?

Now here they are ordering another glass of wine.

The entire world is basically this. People showing up somewhere together and pretending it makes sense.

Look around any restaurant and it’s astonishing civilization functions at all.

That couple clearly mid-argument, but committed to finishing the burrata.

A family negotiating with a six-year-old terrorist about pasta.

Three friends solving the problems of the world over multiple margaritas.

And everyone somehow cooperating enough that the building does not descend into chaos.

Meanwhile, the waiter appears. Food arrives. Glasses are refilled. Bills are paid.

Society continues.

How?

Is it the illusion we were sold by television?

Shows like Friends where people actually seem delighted to see each other.

Or Shrinking, where everyone talks about feelings in clever sentences and somehow grows as humans between appetizers and dessert.

Real life feels… looser.

More improvised.

Like we’re all just winging it and hoping the waiter brings bread.

Yet somehow the whole thing holds together.

Planes fly. Restaurants fill. Couples stay together. Friendships endure. People meet again tomorrow. Major League Baseball starts its 151st season. The Final Four Tournament is upon us, once again. War rages. Republicans hit under their desks. Agent Orange has a new rash while getting richer every day. Daylight Savings Time is imminent.

Which leads me to a comforting theory.

Maybe the world functions not because we understand it, but because, no matter what, we keep showing up anyway.