under the blanket

From What We Bought, by Robert Adams

Never had a meal alone before in my year in London -- until yesterday, when I was so hungry for lunch that I succumbed to sausages and mash.

Solitary meals in restaurants, surrounded by lovey-dovey couples and laughing groups of friends, used to bother me, and I know of people who are too daunted to eat alone or who always manage to have some sort of company. But I've grown to think of it as a mini adventure for one and I'm even rather proud that I'm so good at being alone.

The trick is to carry a book -- and try to look as mysterious as possible.