Table for one?

I have to say that I've only dined alone once in my life. I was 19, too young for yummy wine, and I was having kind of a bummer of a day. That morning, I'd stuffed my car full of everything I owned and set out to move from New Jersey to Vermont. Yeah, I had a bit of a nomad phase. Just past the Vermont border, in some dusty small town, my car choked and died. I had to fork over all the money I'd saved for the move to fix it, and then decide where I could go instead.

So, that may have tainted the experience of sitting in that little booth and eating chicken fingers by my lonesome. I know, I know, this is sounding like a pity party extraordinaire, but what I'm saying is, I think I've mentally associated that shitastic day with the dining alone experience.

Not to mention that I'm a classic New Englander, by which I mean I'm somewhat mistrusting of strangers. I love meeting people, but when complete strangers strike up conversation, however friendly and innocuous, I'm sorry to say that I often play the "Why are you talking to me?!" game. Possible answers range from "this lovely person enjoys talking with people" to "this person wants to lure me into the back of their big white van where there really ISN'T candy, after all". And everything in between. Thus, sitting alone and being open to conversation from fellow diners is a less than ideal experience for me.

Lastly, I would be remiss without mentioning that my breed of people tend to be rabid monogamists. As most stereotypes go, the old Second-date-UHaul is rooted in truth and mild exaggeration. So, 99.9% of the time, I have a built-in dinner date.

The moral of the story is: If I don't have a dining partner, I ultimately stay in instead.