My latest foray into eating alone showed me that the type of restaurant you go matters. I went to a Chinese bistro in town last night, solo, with the purpose of both filling my belly and putting myself out there, as Patti Stanger suggested. She suggested sushi, but I already tried that avenue (semi-successfully) and was in the mood for a specific place.
The restaurant was filled with couples. It didn’t bother me; I’m used to doing things solo now and who ever thought that would be me?! What bothered me was that I picked the wrong restaurant, in the wrong part of town, to meet singles. Sit-down restaurants with smaller bars that aren’t known for specials aren’t going to be full of singles I suppose. Sushi at the bar is a casual meeting that people are likely to ‘pop in’ to grab, and bars with specials attract those who are staying longer.
But even the bar was empty, where I sat, except for an older gentleman who was drinking way too much while watching The Weather Channel and didn’t look up from his never-ending glass of beer.
It was nice to be out, though, and even nicer that it didn’t bother me to be flying solo without the prospect of meeting anyone. What a difference a year makes.
In other news, I did text with Gator briefly. It was flirtatious but casual, and we didn’t really talk that much. I sent him a message on Facebook hoping that he was having a better week and was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel of such a terrible, funeral-centric week. He commented on a picture of me wearing a snuggie, and we messaged a few times back and forth from there. I think I am recovering from the overwhelming crush, just very slowly. But that’s another story for another day…Monday.