A table for one.

Eating alone can be for everyone.

In the past couple of weeks, I have gone out to drink and eat alone, more so than I have in a very long time. This is obviously due to the pandemic, as I pretty much avoided indoor dining for about two years, like many others. While pursuing graduate school in Albany, I cooked more so than I ever did in my 27 years of life. The only times I did go out to eat, were with the same friends as they lived right up the block from me, and I absolutely am so grateful for them. Since then, I have warmed up to eating indoors a bit, but as summer comes to a close, I will probably leave indoor dining for moments that I see fit, as my risk threshold reassesses for the colder months.

I was in Puerto Rico for a few weeks (I type this depressingly), and for some of that time, I had quite a bit of “me” time, for reasons that were quite unfortunate. Despite this snafu, I made the most of it. I went to a museum alone, walked around alone, ate alone, and got a piercing alone. One thing you all should know about me is I can be quite impulsive when it comes to tattoos and piercings. Most have been walk-ins. I ate revoltillo (scramble) and pan with hugo de chinola at Ana’s cafe, overnight oats and a salmon toast at Cafe Regina, a beautiful oatmeal and chocolate cookie, and iced matcha from Filtrado, and half a tripleta in the comfort of my underwear. If you have not eaten without pants on, you truly have not lived. Chewing does not require buttons, zippers, or elastic bands.

While in Puerto Rico, I started reading Laurie Colwin’s, “Home Coming.” Admittedly, I have neglected my reading since I have been back, and honestly, I don’t really mind because I’ve been in the midst of a super intense job hunt, so keep your fingers crossed for me, please! Colwin’s book so far has been a balm to a task that used to exhaust me. Reading for school will always be different than reading for pleasure, and that is okay. Not complaining, simply emphasizing there is a difference. Colwin writes in her essay, “Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant” that, “Dinner alone is one of life’s pleasures. Certainly cooking for oneself reveals man at his weirdest”—I am plenty weird when I eat alone, and you are lying to yourself if you say you aren’t.

I think people can learn a lot from being alone at a bar or restaurant, not just about themselves but what’s around them. I went to this bar in my neighborhood where I ended up talking to some pretty cool folks. I learned that Tamil and Spanish have some similarities and that I’d really like to be a bartender because I genuinely think I’d be good at it. Two whiskey sours in and I am laughing about the most random thing with someone I have never met before and probably won’t see again, and that is absolutely okay.

Last night I went to get tacos after a decent amount of alcohol earlier in the day, where I sat at the bar with my two chicken tinga tacos, and a mediocre, yet strong passionfruit margarita. I observed two guys hanging out and laughing about something, some rapper had said. The bartender and waitress spoke in Spanish, and my left leg fell asleep from being crossed for too long. Today, I’m writing this from a cafe that I have been at for nearly two hours; people watching, foot tapping, and typing to the beat of Bonita Applebum. You notice so many small details when out alone. Not having the pleasant, yet inevitable distraction of company.

However, even eating alone is not entirely void of distraction; I very much enjoy scrolling through Twitter, listening to music, or texting a friend. Rachel Syme comments about Colwin’s writing in her New Yorker piece, “The pleasures of food, in her writing, are matter of fact. You get out of it what you put into it; you’ll enjoy eating the cake precisely because you made it.” The same goes for eating alone, you get out of it what you put into it. If you want to have a good time solo at a bar or anywhere really, you have to put in the effort for yourself.

One thing I don’t really think about anymore but have in the past, is that if people are looking at you, so what? No one is judging you but yourself at that moment, I promise you. Another is, you can literally start a conversation from anything. I asked this guy what he was drinking and I ended up finding out he bartends on the weekends, has a girlfriend, and is Nicaraguan and Cuban. We talked about food, gentrification, and so many other things. A conversation can bloom from an eyelash on your cheek—literally anything. Most of people’s hesitation in going out alone is all fear-based; fear of rejection, maybe looking weird (whatever that means), or something happening to them. All valid, yet a bit irrational in theory. Once you get over that fear, you are truly opening up yourself to so many possibilities! The restaurants and bars are waiting because you will literally be the easiest person to seat and they will be grateful. I just beg of you please tip well, and maybe wear something nice for yourself. Anything can be an occasion!