To Eat Alone

Some observations and assessments in a Park Avenue cafe.

Personally, I’ve never minded it. 

I used to do it often in the car (back when I had a car). I’d get myself some random dish—likely a Zaxby’s salad—and would cruise around listening to music or I’d park somewhere and observe. 

And now I do the same thing, but it looks and feels a tad different now. 

On this chilly Saturday afternoon in Manhattan, I sit alone at a cute bistro table eating a costly, yet delectable $13 tomato fennel soup—observing.

The girl to my right, she seems to be an interesting girl—or is trying to seem interesting, at least. She has a book in her lap entitled “Respect for Acting” by Uta Hagen, a mini journal where I see she has titled the page “Acting I” with a bunch of notes and drawings scribbled on it, and an iPhone. Perhaps she’s an actor? She’s enjoying an iced latte and an avocado chicken salad with a sandwich. She has to be no older than 26 years old, if that. She starts her cafe-work-time on her phone, FaceTiming someone. Then, she opens the journal, writes a little something. Oop, she’s

back on her phone again, now watching a YouTube video. Oh gosh, now she pulled out a MacBook. Poor girl cannot make a decision about what she wants to do. Maybe she and I are more alike than I think. 

The couple to my left, they are far less indecisive as they have both seemingly mutually agreed to enjoy their coffee in near silence while they scroll their iPhones. Perhaps it’s a recharge, their Saturday afternoon cafe ritual, or perhaps it’s the saddest story of all time—they’ve let the third in their relationship cause a gap between their connection. Who knows? I don’t know. This is all speculation. And dare I admit, it’s too much fun. Oh I think they’re French. Too bad Duolingo hasn’t taught me to pick up on what they’re whispering just yet.

A woman just asked if she could sit next to me at my table because they’re aren’t any tables left in this compact and stuffy Upper East Side cafe. I happily invite her over with my southern greeting, she thanks me, and we both retreat back to our comfort place—our iPhones. She has three books with her. But she’s not even trying to put on that facade. I think they’re just rentals from the nearby library. 

And please understand, I’m not fully engrossed in these patrons. You know when you get the middle seat on an airplane and you strain your eyes so intensely trying to see what the other person is doing on their phones? Yep. That is basically what I’m doing.

I think it’s important to be observant of your surroundings. It feels undeniably human and can often give you a real good (or real mediocre) story to share. 

My senior year of college, one of my film professors said that I ‘wrote well’. Of course, I thanked him. But, as us women often do, I clarified why I thought he gave me the compliment rather than simply accepting it. I explained that I believed it was because I am quite observant of others. He proceeded to attempt to embarrass me and paint me out as this creep by saying to the entire class, “Watch out, Jade’s watching you!” Deep down, as a film producer and writer himself, I feel like he knew what I meant.

“I found that eating alone by the window in a quiet restaurant is one of life’s greatest secret pleasures.” —Elizabeth Gilbert

Best,

Jade