Whenever I used to go out to eat with my parents or had a date with a friend, and I´d see someone eating alone at a nearby table, I would feel an enormous, distracting sympathy for them, and the feeling did not cease the entire meal. Sometimes they´d have a glass of wine or a martini, and almost always the company of a book or newspaper. I´d have this urge to go over and invite them to join us for dinner, or send over dessert just so they knew someone was thinking about them.
I never would feel sad for individuals having breakfast or lunch alone, but dinner always got me. Maybe it´s because it´s the meal that ends the day, a time reserved for when people are supposed to come together and relax with each other rather than contemplate in solitude. I just could never see the appeal of dining alone; I always imagined it as a kind of torture in which one´s same thoughts would be endlessly mulled over and over.
It just goes to show you that you can´t pass judgment on something until you try it. The majority of nights I´ve spent here in Barcelona, I´ve eaten alone. And I thoroughly enjoy it. I can walk around for a half hour or so, looking for a restaurant that has a manu to satisfy what I have a taste for, or I can grab a quick drink at the bar next to my apartment and then head somewhere close for an early, easy evening.
A great book is the best company that money can buy. The characters can come to life and suddenly seem like they´re sitting at your table, and the scene is unfolding before your eyes as you cautiously take the occasional bite. Usually I can barely tear my hand from the page to lift my fork...
And it´s a riot what comes to your mind when you don´t have a conversation to keep you occupied. I like to imagine sitting across the table from various people; sometimes it´s a friend or family member, other times it´s a character or famous dead person (you should have heard my discussion with Hemingway the other night, that impish charmer...). But you´re given the freedom to let your mind wander and create hundreds of imaginary scenes.
Then there´s people watching. This has got to be my personal favorite. Whether you subtly observe customers at nearby tables or gaze out the window at passers by, there´s surely never a dull moment. Just last night I was seated next to a young couple who brough their newborn along to the restaurant, undoubtedly one of the first outings of its kind. Initially there was much confusion over where to put the stroller: Daddy repeatedly voiced his concern about blocking a fire exit and looked like he was about to pull out a measuring tape or a protractor, and Mommy wore a face that said, "if you don´t leave the damn stroller alone I´m gonna start a damn fire any minute." All the while, the little angel slept soundly...that is, until the couple finally sat down, then Baby was up and at em! Luckily, the little tyke was in good spirits, and especially smiley after I snuck in a few winks and silly faces.
Upon returning to my apartment, belly full and mind clear, I bask in the serenity of my cleansed mental palette and my overall detachment from the day´s work. It´s definitely a practice that I hope to continue once I return home, as I have no shame walking into a restaurant and proudly announcing "party of one".
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