Table for one. Why is that weird?

Why is dining alone to be feared?

I like my own company – what’s wrong with that?

Maybe I’m not in the mood to chat.

People will probably think I’m friendless.

The stares; the smirks; the judgment is endless.

It feels like I’m breaking some protocol.

Maybe I’ll push it, have alcohol.

I could talk to myself, really put on a show.

‘Look at her,’ they’d say, ‘clearly loco!’

I’ll happily pass the whole time with my book.

And won’t care what they think – let them look.

When my meal arrives, I’ll resist temptation,

To exclaim out loud, ‘What a taste sensation!’

And when the eating is done and I’m heading for home,

Does it really matter that I was dining alone?