I ran across an old op-ed column I wrote about eating alone, dated sometime around 2003. This is how that went back then:
Everyone looks at you funny, right down the guy behind the cash register and the cook who slaps the burgers on the buns. When did eating alone become a crime?I can ask this because I spent the past week skulking around the fast-food joints. I hid behind books and newspapers as I ate. Sometimes I scowled at the twosomes who cast pitiful looks my way. Mostly I just tried to appear inconspicuous.
There are rules to follow when you eat alone. The number one rule is to have reading material with you so you look like you're having a good time. Laugh at the jokes on the horoscope page. Something. Anything to keep from having to look at other people, which brings us to the second rule: never make eye contact. And the third rule is to sit as far away from other people as you can.
I ate in the mall one day, and there were six other people eating at the food court - all sitting alone. We sat like this - lone person, empty table, lone person, empty table . . . you get the picture. At least no one cast pitiful glances that day. Everyone was in the same predicament.
I've often wondered what would happen if you went up to a solitary diner and asked to sit down with them. Great love stories occur in that fashion. The restaurant is full and solitary lady is forced to sit with solitary man, and true love blossoms over the shrimp dip. Sigh.
But I never impose, just as no one imposes on me. Why risk bodily harm or verbal abuse? Why trouble yourself with certain rejection?
Therein lies the answer to my question of the crime of solitary dining - rejection. Eating alone signifies rejection. Everyone sees you and knows no one wants to eat with you. Never mind that it's your choice and you don't like your coworkers. You dine alone, so something is wrong with you.
Maybe the lone diners should form a club and throw some weight around. We could get the restaurants to have tables with one chair. And supply newspapers and magazines. This would have an added benefit for the rest of the population, because you never know when a twosome will become a solitary diner, and someone will have to eat alone.
When that happens, you can bet they will be unprepared for the experience and won't know what to do with their hands and minds while they eat. They will need a little mercy, and a newspaper to hide behind.
But that was then. Now? Now I think eating alone isn't that big a deal. The reason? Cell phones. Now it isn’t the lone diner who looks out of place, it’s the person who isn’t staring at a phone.
Solitude didn’t change. The etiquette did.




