Table for One, Please
Solomangarephobia
I was watching an episodic show on one of my streaming platforms the other day. And the female lead character sat down by herself to have lunch at a recently opened restaurant. A few moments later, a member of the waitstaff placed a life-sized, cartoonish-looking doll in the chair across from her. When she inquired about the sudden appearance of the unrequested oddity, she was told, “So it doesn’t look like you’re eating alone.”
I laughed out loud at the absurdity. First, at the notion that eating in the company of a faux-human eyesore would be preferable to an empty seat. Then at the notion that somebody might not want to eat alone in the first place. And a beat later, I remembered, oh yeah - some people don’t like that. And if you happen to be one of them, please pardon my ignorance while I work through this.
I’ve heard a friend or two make mention of it over the years. And I think I’ve seen or heard it referenced in pop culture a few times now. But it’s not something that dawned on me at all when the protagonist requested a table for one. Maybe because that’s me. I get a table for one all the time, and not just because I’m single at the moment. I also regularly travel by myself for work and leisure. And if I’m feeling in the mood for some company or chatter, I’ll sit at the bar and put a line in the water.
Even though I eat alone more than I do with others, it still feels like a special treat to be dining at a restaurant by myself. But I also enjoy solitude in general. Maybe I enjoy eating alone more due to that fact than the justifiable worry that the person across from me might steal my fries. I also adore spending quality time with friends and loved ones, of course. There’s nothing better than sitting at a table lavished with food and drink that’s also being consumed by laughter, except perhaps a small, comfortable booth with a view, relaxing music, quiet contemplation, and zero social responsibility.
Then again, that’s me. I know my lifestyle, experiences, and the way I see and interact with the world are hardly typical. It could also be my lack of experience with those who have expressed this type of discomfort. But I thought it was more of a thing of the past. Something centered on generational or gender assessments of social norms. “No woman should be seen dining alone.” That sort of affair.
But it got me thinking, is not wanting to eat alone common? Do some people find it embarrassing or uncomfortable, regardless of generation or gender? Clearly, a segment of the population must, or it wouldn’t have its own official phobia. And they wouldn’t be addressing it in contemporary entertainment in such a way. I know it’s just television, but the mere suggestion that such a fear might necessitate a non-biological seat-filler carried some weight with me.
Nobody should judge or claim that one preferred method of dining is better than another. Both have pluses and minuses. And I’m guessing there are probably healthy and unhealthy reasons for both predilections. Maybe I should just consider myself lucky to enjoy both.
Not wanting to eat alone is likely a far more common feeling or preference than my specific existence has allowed me to account for, and I might even be in the minority, which is also fine. Regardless, if you’re at the bar, a four-top, a communal bench, or a table for one, I hope it’s the dining experience of your choosing. And if our eyes happen to catch, I’ll raise you a glass.
You’re definitely not alone. There have been times I’ve felt more embarrassed or uncomfortable being with someone than dining by myself. Still, it’s one of those things. I once had a hostess respond with “aww” when I said “just me,” and I had to laugh and say, “it’s not a sad thing!” lol
Funny you should mention about how women weren't supposed to eat alone. I grew up during that time. A time when I was refused credit even though I had been a state worker for 8 years, so my (now-ex) husband went back in the same store and told him he was on unemployment and they fell all over themselves to give him credit. So when I left him almost 25 years ago, one of the first things I did was go out to dinner by myself. I realized I felt the message I had received from society was that I didn't "deserve" a dinner out if a man wasn't taking me. So for me, that first solo dinner was a sign of my independence and of my own value. I have no problem eating alone today and never even think about it any more. If I want a meal and I want it at a certain place, I simply do it.