A woman walks into a bar…
I’m writing this post in a wine bar. I’m talking about what it’s like to be a party of one, by default. My fault. Marianne and I were FINALLY going to celebrate our month of purging stuff from our homes last January. You may remember, pitch one thing on the first, two on the second and so on. It has taken us eight months to coordinate this meeting. Sometimes, it just does.
I text her, “Delayed? I’ve got a table!” She is surprised, “Oh, no! I’m at my manicure appointment.” Quickly, I search for the text of our plan. Oops. Right place, wrong day. We agree to meet Friday, as actually planned.
Do I stay? Do I leave? It’s weird being in a bar alone, where everyone knows your name. But I’ve already ordered and it would be rude to leave. I suck it up and try to relax. I decide to treat this as an experiment. Nobody is really worried about me, even though I feel like I have a sign on my forehead, “STOOD UP!” Everyone seems to be enjoying their parties of two, four or eight. There’s one woman by herself at the end of the bar. She’s applying for work.
Not me. I’m working on myself. Enjoying my own quiet, even with the din of the chatter. There’s good music in the background. It’s actually not horrible. I’m feeling calm. Confident. Relaxed. I decide to write about this alone activity. I understand the difference between alone and lonely. This is not lonely. It is a little different, however, I’ll grant you that. But, I know I’m different and I’m okay with it. It’s kind of like dating yourself. Sometimes we need to do more of that, to find out how we really are doing. I’ve been told I’m quirky, not normal. Big deal. This works for me sometimes. I’ll be back Friday. Right place, right day. Being all normal and stuff. Today, I kind of liked reaching beyond my comfort level. Never mind, Normal. You’re okay too.