Choosing Tables

I am suffering from a mild case of post-vacation blues but one thing I don't miss is having to pick which table to sit at for meals at the summer school. It is such a complex decision that I am sure some mathematician must have come up with an algorithm for it. Pretty early on, I learned to avoid the Argentinian table because they would talk mostly about football, break into Spanish frequently, and apologize profusely for both transgressions. Of course, they were not always together, but when they were, they were best avoided. I also learned to avoid the Trento table as they clumped together and wouldn't mix much with the rest of us. But, even with those two rules, decision-making didn't become much easier. One had to pick a table where one is likely to have a good conversation. But, one couldn't pick the same partners over and over again for fear of seeming clingy, especially when there isn't anyone you get along with like a house on fire. Alas, the dance of decorum--jumping through hoops to keep people at a certain distance and certify your autonomy--which can only be abandoned in the presence of heart friends. Then, you sympathize with the misfits but don't want to be stuck at a table full of misfits because you would be bored out of your skull. And, then the million-dollar question. Imagine you enter the dining room and there are a few people already seated at different tables. Which table do you pick? If you pick one, would the other table be offended or relieved or (most likely) indifferent? Or should you start at new table, leaving it to fate to decided your dinner partners?
This is the overthinking over-self-conscious me and to be honest, I really wasn't tearing my hear out over this decision. But I don't think even the coolest cucumber at the summer school could deny that picking dinner tables requires some thought.