
When I was 18 years old I had an overnight layover in Frankfurt, Germany. I stayed at the airport hotel and I needed to eat so I walked into the hotel restaurant. Alone. It was my first time dining alone. I was nervous but I was hungry. The Maître D’ was very nice and showed me to a small out of the way table. There were no cellphones to play with in those days. I think I might have had a magazine. I don’t remember what I ate or if it was any good. I remember seeing several men dining alone. No women. The service wasn’t the best. It took forever to get the bill. I was rather low on the totem pole, I guess. But I got through it.
Since then I have dined alone many times but never by choice. Usually when travelling. Airports and hotels are mostly reasonable places to dine alone. People understand why you have the need to do such a thing. Outside of that, at regular local restaurants, I often get the feeling they are put out by it. Maybe it is my imagination. Maybe I am too self-conscious. Now that I have a phone to play with it is a bit less painful.
I know people who love to dine alone. I suppose it gives them a sense of freedom.
I enjoy watching other people. How they interact. What they eat. How much they drink.
I arrived in Scotland a couple of years ago, made a beeline for the hotel restaurant and ordered two beers one right after the other. Just to help with the nerves… Jet lagged and sleep deprived, I found I was quite drunk and barely managed to pay the bill before collapsing in my room. I think I overtipped the waiter and he was a little confused by it all. Not the best way to start a trip.
Now that I am old I really don’t care anymore. Age does have its advantages. My birthday is coming up. Maybe I will have a nice meal to celebrate. Or maybe I’ll just get a slice of cake to go.




























































































































