I was sitting down to brunch alone at Absinthe and right after the waitress asked me if I was waiting for someone, I turned to a chapter titled “Miss Singleton Dines Alone.” This is after the maitre d’ had already looked mildly perplexed at my request for a table for one. Apparently my laptop bag full of reading material is not enough to clue people in that I don’t need company. They feel sorry for me–as if to say, “You look socially acceptable; why shouldn’t anyone want to join you?” The night before at Little Star pizza, a similar scenario played itself out when the hostess assumed I was planning on picking up some food to bring home and eat in private shame rather than put my solitude on display in the restaurant. I love to eat out and do so alone frequently. It turns out that sometimes I’m hungry and I want to do something about it, especially when I have money with which to pay for something delicious. Eating alone is far simpler and faster than coordinating with anyone else and is one of the best parts about not being part of a family unit. There’s nothing precluding me from learning how to cook gourmet meals, but doing so for one would be both boring and inefficient. Still, sometimes it feels like the only socially acceptable option for individuals is McDonald’s. The reaction I get from time to time for dining out as a single woman indicates that far too many people are missing out on this wondrous ritual.
“Solitude was no excuse for sloppiness.” –Tales of the City
Filed under: Food, Social Movements
I loved this post Laura. This old lady of not yet sixty but getting there still loves to dine alone. Even at home, if I am alone, I set nice china and linens. After all, we are our own best friend. Not that people are bad of course. My favorite memories are from trips I took in my 30′s alone to New Mexico to photograph pueblos and White Sands National Monument by moonlight. Of course, I had to eat somewhere. No fast food joints to hide away in for me. I always asked for a nice table, a good wine, and with my journal, I thought I was pretty good company. I always keep a food journal when I travel. Just few lines recall some little bistro tucked away off a side street. In 2004 I spent some time alone in Rome and whiled away many hours in sidewalk cafes just breathing in the city and enjoying fabulous food, solo. I won’t get stuck in a crappy spot or hurried along.