Landed in Houston pretty much on time, and wandered to the nearest club lounge. Turns out, no, wrong one, you want the one closer to your departure gate. I was still uncertain if was in the correct lounge, so expressed the uncertainty to the front desk gatekeeper. Her demeanor was stiff to the point of hosility until she looked at my ticket, and saw that, indeed, I could be in the lounge. She was then very pleasant. The switch gave me discomfort whiplash.
I spent an hour in the lounge, mostly reading emails, and received a "suddenly filled with the feeling that you’re travelling with someone," response, which made me sad and immediately defensive, as I am now unable to have some solitude without triggering someone else's anxiety. I wish we hadn't ended up here, but since we are here, I'm embracing empathy and gratitude.