Dining Alone in a Restaurant: Fun or Torture?

Its always an interesting discussion. Some people would rather face the Iron Maiden than publicly dine alone—anywhere. I’m sort of in the middle. Then there are those who do it without a second thought, and enjoy every moment, like my friend Katie.

Katie loves going to a fancy neighborhood French restaurant by herself around 8:00 p.m. Surrounded by couples having candle-lit dinners, she’ll order a glass of champagne and a strawberry soufflé. She basks in the food and the ambiance, often striking up conversations with diners at nearby tables. Or she’ll just quietly enjoy her meal, smiling at the couples who stroll past.

Her husband travels a lot and Katie decided she wasn’t going to miss out on these beloved excursions. If he wasn’t available, she’d take herself out. She’ll put on a pretty outfit, make-up, and go for it.

Then there are the more moderate solo diners…like me. Although I don’t mind eating alone, it must be the right place. I’m not sure I’d be as brave as Katie, going to a fancy, romantic venue, especially during the busy times.

Still, in the local coffee shop, I have lunch all the time by myself, mostly surrounded by other solo diners. There’s something nice about eating my scrambled egg and peppers sandwich while working on my laptop computer. Sometimes I get so caught up in my work, when my food comes, I’m almost surprised.

If I must go somewhere more upscale by myself, I’ll go early. Somehow, I find it easier to sit among mostly empty tables than surrounded by legions of other diners laughing and talking.

Then I have otherwise-confident friends who won’t eat alone, period. They don’t dig it and that’s okay too. I asked one woman why she won’t, and she replied, “It always feels awkward. I feel that people are judging me.” Another said, “It looks and feels lonely.” (I must confess, I never think that when I see solo diners).

I wonder if men have an easier time dining alone. Maybe they’re more conditioned to not caring what people think. My extroverted husband Randy loves sitting at the bar, eating his dinner. Of course, he strikes up conversations with whoever happens to be near and makes instant pals wherever he goes.

Still, watching some of my intrepid friends like Katie has opened my thinking. Over the years, I’ve met women who travel alone, stay in hotels for weeks at a time solo, and go on European biking trips by themselves. There are plenty of travel shows featuring women going to exotic locations by themselves. Of course, they must be careful, and they are. Although I’m not that brave, I admire people who are.

In the end, we need the Katies out there. And although most of us aren’t as intrepid, it’s fun to watch that envelope being pushed out.

I picture Katie saying, “Life is to be lived!” as she lifts her champagne glass to the world..

 

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