Solo SupperBy Amber Peckham
Dining out alone is, for me, one of the most socially awkward experiences imaginable. Now, I don’t mean dining out at a fast food joint or anything like that; I’m talking about dining out for real, with tables and menus and cloth napkins. I usually try to avoid dining out alone at all costs. I will go hungry for hours until I have someone to eat with, because in my mind, a meal is an experience you are supposed to share; and if I’m alone while I eat, it’s usually all I can think about.
(I would like to interject here that I don’t have any problem being by myself. In fact, I usually prefer it. That whole “afraid of their own thoughts, has to surround themselves with people” thing does not and never has applied to me. I just hate eating alone. I grew up in a family who ate together.)
On one particular day, though, waiting for company wasn’t an option. I was alone in Japan Town on a crazy quest for dishes, and I needed to refuel. My stomach had been set on udon noodles for about an hour, but before I could get them, I actually had to locate a restaurant, go in, sit down, and order. Alone.
I found a restaurant with good smells and took the plunge, not wanting to drag things out. It wasn’t too crowded, and as the server brought me one lonely little menu and one glass of water, she gave me a long, mournful glance that would have looked at home on a basset hound. Another reason I hate eating out: people feel sorry for you like nobody’s business. I made my way through ordering udon with egg and then had to face the arduous task of waiting ten or so minutes for my food with no one to talk to. Luckily, the restaurant had a small selection of free publications, and I was able to read about dragon boating while trying to evade the pitying glances of the staff.
And when it came, I forgot I was alone. It was udon, but it was the best looking udon I’d ever seen. It was a bowl big enough to drown myself in, with seaweed and big chunks of scrambled egg, and, of course, the noodles, all happily coexisting in a miso broth. I picked up my chopsticks and dug in, now oblivious to the people around me who might or might not be judging me and my solo lunch.
As I was finishing up, another solo diner came in, newspaper in tow. I wanted to reassure him; this food is enough to make anyone feel like they have someone eating with them. It’s a beautiful thing. But I decided to let him find that out for himself.
Me? I was getting ice cream. To go.
Taste for yourself:
Sanppo Sushi
1702 Post St.
SF, Ca
(415) 346-3488
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Comments (1)
Another reason I hate eating out: people feel sorry for you like nobody’s business.
I think you may be projecting a little bit. Or maybe you're acting like you feel awkward about the situation, so they treat you as such? Do like the other guy did (and like I do) and bring a newspaper or book along and act like you belong there. I've never had any problems.
Thanks for the tip on the restaurant! I usually head down to Katana-Ya for solo noodles (it's closer than Japantown to my house), but I'll give that place a try!
Posted by no one in particular | September 24, 2007 04:17 PM