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?