Dear Friends,
If I hear one more “Is’t just you? Just for one? Is’t only you?” I’ll stop eating out forever!
Every time I hear a hostess or a waiter ask me one of these stupid questions, I feel as if I’ve “failed” at becoming a “two.”
“Yes, it’s just me.” Sometimes, I myself repeat after them, mindlessly. But, today, I decided to educate the host of my favourite pub in Toronto, who, by the way, has always seen me alone.
“Don’t use ‘just,’ I told him. “I’m not just, I’m plenty!” He looked confused. “What shall I say?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Anything but one, only or just! See, I have a laptop with me. It’s me and my blog. I have an iPhone too!”
He didn’t reply. He thought I’d gone mad!
The same thing happened to me last weekend, in Cobourg. “Will you be dining alone, tonight?”
“I’ve been dining alone for a while now.” I mocked host’s affected tone and followed him. “Would you prefer to sit at the bar?”
“No!” I answered curtly. Actually, I like sitting at the bar, but I felt that he was saving the small round tables for couples. As soon as I sat down, the waitress arrived to take away the extra place-setting. She looked disappointed. I ordered an expensive glass of wine, to reassure her that an “ alone” old lady could ring up a large bill too!
Eating alone is an oddity, especially at night, or in better establishments. I don’t blame people for not wanting to put themselves in an awkward situation. First, the host makes you feel inadequate, then the waitress. The empty chair across from you, whispering “Failure, failure...” doesn’t help either.
If I were rich, I would open a restaurant called “ Only Just for One“ where either tables were set only for one, or the staff was trained to see the obvious.
Every time I hear a hostess or a waiter ask me one of these stupid questions, I feel as if I’ve “failed” at becoming a “two.”
“Yes, it’s just me.” Sometimes, I myself repeat after them, mindlessly. But, today, I decided to educate the host of my favourite pub in Toronto, who, by the way, has always seen me alone.
“Don’t use ‘just,’ I told him. “I’m not just, I’m plenty!” He looked confused. “What shall I say?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Anything but one, only or just! See, I have a laptop with me. It’s me and my blog. I have an iPhone too!”
He didn’t reply. He thought I’d gone mad!
The same thing happened to me last weekend, in Cobourg. “Will you be dining alone, tonight?”
“I’ve been dining alone for a while now.” I mocked host’s affected tone and followed him. “Would you prefer to sit at the bar?”
“No!” I answered curtly. Actually, I like sitting at the bar, but I felt that he was saving the small round tables for couples. As soon as I sat down, the waitress arrived to take away the extra place-setting. She looked disappointed. I ordered an expensive glass of wine, to reassure her that an “ alone” old lady could ring up a large bill too!
Eating alone is an oddity, especially at night, or in better establishments. I don’t blame people for not wanting to put themselves in an awkward situation. First, the host makes you feel inadequate, then the waitress. The empty chair across from you, whispering “Failure, failure...” doesn’t help either.
If I were rich, I would open a restaurant called “ Only Just for One“ where either tables were set only for one, or the staff was trained to see the obvious.
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| Garçon, un filet mignon, s’il vous plait! |
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