A few years ago, I walked into an elegant lakeside restaurant. I wanted to buy a voucher there as a gift for my friend, and I thought I’d try the place first. Alone. As if I didn’t already know — because apparently, that’s embarrassing.
At first, while they were showing me to my table, there was no problem. The waiter didn’t seem bothered that no one else was joining me. But then he disappeared, and no one was exactly eager to come over. I could hear them snickering, asking each other who wanted to deal with me. The restaurant was nearly empty, yet there were plenty of waiters around. The only woman laughed and said, “Well, it’s definitely not going to be me.”
In the end, one of the men “volunteered.” With a faint smile, he asked when the others would be arriving and, of course, wasn’t surprised by my answer. He just… made a little dig. Since I had no one to come with, obviously. Because if someone walks into a restaurant alone, there must be some terribly serious reason behind it. Something simple — like testing the place — couldn’t possibly be the explanation.
And yet I love it when life gives me the chance to sit down somewhere for a good coffee and admire the view. Or simply let my thoughts wander freely while I quietly savor the flavors and the scents.
In fact, it genuinely fills me with joy that I can. Even if, in many people’s eyes, it’s embarrassing.
Perhaps we don’t even realize how much this label — so casually placed on us by others — shapes our decisions, often without us noticing. Just think about what kind of book we dare to take out in public. It’s not always the one that truly pulls us in… but the one we feel less awkward being seen with. Or the one we think simply “looks better” when taken out of our handbag.
After all, who would want to be seen openly reading a book on the subway with a big red mouth splashed across the cover? Or a subtitle that says: Bedtime Stories.
Who would want the world to know they crave sensuality…
tender words…
passion?
A little dose of happiness in the middle of harsh everyday life.
Exactly — no one. Because that would be embarrassing.
Things like this only stop feeling awkward when no one can see them. Not the reading itself — and not the book either. What a relief that we now have ebooks and audiobooks we can enjoy even on our phones.
But let’s be honest: no matter how discreet they are…
most of us still only dare to pull them out at home, alone — from the shoebox hidden under the bed.