The first time it happened, I think, was in 2008, in a place called Dornbirn, Austria.

I had visited friends in Germany for a few days, and was on my way home to Austria. In the afternoon, I headed south on a regional train. The goal for the day was to meander through some of my old Bodensee (Lake Constance) haunts and catch a night train back to Steyr, Austria, where I was living at the time teaching English.

I had plenty of time before said night train’s departure, so I started the afternoon in Bregenz, and made my way eastward as the evening wore on, toward the city where I’d have to board the night train. My plan meant less time waiting around, and more time checking out a few small towns in the Vorarlberg region along the way. I mean, why not?

By dinnertime, I hopped off at Dornbirn, and scouted out a suitable place to eat. It was a Sunday night, and it was late. (In Austria, that means one thing: nothing is open.)

I wandered a bit, and found an open Italian restaurant.

There was maybe one other customer.

I wasn’t just eating alone; I was almost literally alone. So I sat down, ordered, and wrote in my journal. Recently I dug up said journal, and will share an excerpt from it here:

21:12, Dornbirn: Sitting in an Italian restaurant drinking Merlot + waiting for my Penne Contadina. Thought I’d treat myself. Why the hell not? Plus I think everyone should go out to dinner by themselves every once in a while. I can’t remember a recent time; I did in Zürich but that was outside so didn’t really count…. I have no problem being alone sometimes, like while traveling. 

Okay, so I lied. An Italian restaurant in Dornbirn wasn’t the first place I ate dinner alone, but it was the first place I recorded that exact “treat yourself” feeling of dining solo.

And so it began.

When you’re a solo traveler, whether for business or for fun, dining alone is par for the course. I’m not great with the “stay in a youth hostel and make random friends” thing (and, let’s be honest, I’m now way too old to stay in a youth hostel). So unless the restaurant seats me at a big communal table or the bar, or some nice people invite me to join them, I’m eating alone.

When people who don’t travel solo hear that, sometimes the reaction is one extreme or the other: mortified or impressed. But I just shrug it off. It’s normal for me now, but before I started traveling, it wasn’t. Like I wrote nearly a decade ago, I think everyone should try it.

Eating dinner alone in a restaurant is, I think, an acquired taste and one that requires a little bit of nerve. Eating breakfast alone? Sure. Eating lunch or having coffee alone? Fine; a lot of people take solo lunch breaks. These are typical daytime things.

But there’s something about the social-ness of nighttime that gives solo dinner dining a bit of, I don’t know, a stigma? Maybe that’s not the right word, but the point is, some people might see it as unusual. I dine out alone most often when traveling, but occasionally in my own city, too. Almost always, I bring a book and/or journal for company, and I love it. Here is how the exchange with the host usually goes:

“How many?”
“One.”
“Just one?”

“Yup.”

Yup. Sometimes there’s the flicker of something else in their face. Is it surprise? Pity? Or maybe it’s just my imagination trying to see things from their perspective for a moment. (The natural impulse of a writer, I suppose.) I’m choosing to dine alone. Nobody’s stood me up, my friends didn’t cancel on me. No, the truth is, I didn’t invite anyone else on purpose, and it’s either because I’m traveling by myself, or because I just didn’t want company.

Because here’s the thing: I enjoy my own company.

Over the years, as I’ve traveled and moved from city to city, doing things solo–not just eating dinner–has become a norm. I’m an introvert, so that helps with the whole enjoying-my-own-company thing. But I also like being around people, even if I’m not directly interacting with them. So dining alone? Bring it on!

Sure, occasionally I’ve felt a bit awkward when eating dinner at a restaurant by myself, perhaps if a place is a bit crowded and I don’t have a book with me. Most of the time, however, I think nothing of it. Who cares? Nobody, probably, because everyone’s too busy enjoying their own drinks and meals.

Exactly. Who cares? What’s there to be so concerned about? A restaurant is not the middle school cafeteria. It’s a place I want to go to to treat myself to a nice evening out.

So if you’ve never tried going out for dinner alone, give it a try. Order one of your favorite foods, go to that new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to check out, visit one of your after-work group spots by yourself.

The point is, whether you’re in your hometown or in the middle of rural Austria, you don’t need to make plans with others in order to give yourself a nice evening out. Your own company is a wonderful thing, something you will always have. Enjoy it.

Photo: Suzi Swartz

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