The tables have turned.

On the table.

All right, keep your hands on the table.

Do you know how old this table is?

What? Just put it down.

Give me the keys then. They're on your desk there.

That's right! The table is 21 years old!

You losers can help yourself to what's on the table.

Put your hands on that counter and lean over like we're talking.

We're bidden to table. I hope you are good at eating with your fingers.

He opens the window of the attic, of course, and there's a tablecloth wrapped around the building's television antenna.

Oh good job. Customer at table 9 ordered bean paste soup.

They brought us coffee, a little sugar, prunes and toothbrushes, and, of all things, some pingpong balls.

Ted, Sharon says there's another offer on the table... ...and we have to move on this.

All he has to do now, with a perfect table, is wait for her to arrive.

I need to go out for dinner tomorrow and I would enjoy seeing a friendly face across the table.

Instead of serving family style, where you can sort of mindlessly eat as you're talking, they serve at the counter, put the food away, and then bring it to the table.

So, he keeps on moving, approaching an unsuspecting waiter who is trying to deliver two plates of linguine in a delicate white wine clam sauce to diners who are sitting at a table just outside of a restaurant in the street.