Table for Uno

I've come to find that one of the things I love doing most by myself is dining.


I can order whatever I want without feeling like a wittle piggy or guilty for the cost of my slop.
I don't have to think of witty quips or engaging questions to fill a waiting silence.
I may eat as fast as my tummy tells me or as leisurely as my appetite pleases.

Spend the quiet moments reading the most recent book stuffed in my bag, or let out some therapeutic thoughts in the pages of my journal (which this is an excerpt from, btw)



People seem to be nicer to me when they think I am lonely.

My friendly and attentive waiter not only presented me with a "love lolly" at the end of my meal tonight, but also gave me the most beautiful rose I've ever seen.

My smile could be seen from the white-haired bartender, who waves to me everyday as I pass by him on the way to my apartment.
Though I rarely go into his bar anymore (the tapas not his specialty), he makes it a point to acknowledge me, and give me the biggest grin that anyone could enjoy through the deafness of pane-glassed windows.

Being alone only gives one the shining opportunity to greet new faces in unfamiliar places. To have a mystic sensation that this space in time is all your own.

I'm grateful that being an only child for most of my life has given me the security to venture into the world with only my mind to reflect to. That wherever I am and whoever I'm with...I'm always home.

Strangers with smiles can fuel me for miles...