Interstate Adventures

Waiters and waitresses grabbed drinks and floated away from the bar on the veranda of the Colorado Hotel. They moved with a mission to deliver those drinks as quickly as possible. In another area someone was strumming the guitar on a small stage in front of Adirondack chairs. There was a certain casual Colorado feel. Children were running around close to their bedtime.

I glanced around the restaurant for people dining alone on a Saturday evening. A woman with white hair sat by herself. A couple nearby asked a waiter where the hostess was. With a wave of his hand he directed them to an area with a low brick wall and patio behind it. I followed them and said I could not figure out where to go and it’s a bit awkward because I’m alone so maybe I’m easy to miss.

The man offered, “If you would like company while you eat, you can join us.” I had the social energy and I thought it could be interesting but I declined. I suddenly felt like I was on a mission to dine solo.

Then, before the hostess could ask, I said, “I’m dining alone.” She immediately perked up and said, “I love dining by myself!” I imagined what it must be like to be completely at ease with it.

I confessed I should do it more often. I told her I was in France for three weeks by myself and only dined solo in the evening once. In France, that required absolutely no distractions. If I was distracted from the meal with a book or a phone, I would have been given frowns of disapproval. She said, “You are the third woman dining alone that I’ve seated tonight.” Then she kept going,  “I want to open up a restaurant that has a communal table for single diners. In another life. In another life.” She said that twice and I thought, why not this life?

The man who was from Boulder came to my table and reminded me that I have an invitation. I thanked him again and said “People from Boulder are so nice!” I put my phone in my bag on the chair next to me so I would not be tempted even though no one here would have cared. When the waiter came by I ordered a glass of wine and flatbread. I took a deep breath and listened to the Grateful Dead cover song. As I looked around I noticed a woman in front of me who was also dining alone. This woman was all in for dining. I noticed she had a giant Aperol spritz that was going to take a commitment to empty.

I had skipped lunch that day. Instead, I went to the hot springs for a short lap swim. I also sat in the cold pool too long. I was hungry but intentionally ate slowly and enjoyed the music and flickering lights around the patio.

After the meal, the waiter asked me if I wanted dessert. I was not ready to leave. I wanted to sit a little longer and listen to the music. I responded, “How about another glass of Syrah?” He said, “That’s my kind of dessert.”