I have been chomping at the reins to write about this a while now but I've been too busy eating.
It's an art form like no other and takes months of training to perfect. Eating alone at a restaurant is a man's game. Ask me.
It's trying, worthy of a degree while being excruciatingly painful going through the 'course', and a source of some amusement to the observer(s), obviously families with little children who derive pleasure ogling at you and are literally drooling at the mouth because the food is so appetising. That food, my dear bachelor, is you.
I have learnt to ignore gaping children at restaurants.
I am trying to tackle sceptical adults now.
First thing to do, avoid eating at restaurants on holidays. They are full of families waiting to give you the once over as you walk in. If you can't resist the weekend specials, you are a notch down. But there is hope in step two. Try going for a corner table. If you see a vacant cover somewhere in the middle, give it the miss. You are in danger of being the object of intense scrutiny by doing this, but you are ready for that with step three.
Don't make eye contact. Give him/her the royal ignore. Check out the terrible acrylics hanging on the restaurant walls, admire the bland décor, make ships and planes out of tissue paper. If all fails and that horrid waiter continues to ignore you, hit the phone and act as you were talking to a long-time-no-see friend and pray that the phone does not ring. Also, if there are potted plants around, you are safe.
Feelings
An Indian scientist discovered that plants have feelings too. Try positioning yourself next to one and pet it. If it does not bite back, it is not on the menu so you can start a conversation with it. Global warming, the price rise of rice, Olympics and the Tibetan monks, there is no dearth of topics. If that child at the next table ogles, give him the eye as well, all the while continuing the conversation with your potted friend. If the waiter ogles, it's time to place that order.
Step four. Be discreet. Plumb the waiter and ask him what dish could be made from the freshest produce available at the restaurant. After the waiter gives you the history of each ingredient, decide not going for the dish and order for something that is readily available. The waiter will (should) realise that you could be a problem customer. You are doubly sure that he has got the point when he moves the potted plant. Be sure to laugh like crazy when he does that. If he does not move the plant, ignore restaurant rules and start eating what is not on the menu. Go for the plant. This kills two birds with one gulp, not to mention your appetite (restaurants go for crazy, tropical plants, why can't they stick to cactuses and lichens, more appetising.).
You are now doubly sure that the waiter (and the ogling families) know you are a problem customer and this in turn ensures that the suddenly ingratiating and polite waiter gets your order at the double.
Step five. Make loud chomping noises as you stuff yourself, slurping sounds as you do justice to the coffee (or tea though I prefer coffee). Don't forget to share your spoils with your newfound potted friend. After all, he did share his leaves with you when you were hungry. It's payback time.
Step six. Belch loudly. It's a Hawaiian custom. So what if you are not in Hawaii?
Step seven. Tip the waiter well so he sends the ambulance away. This is also to ensure that he gets the rose bush and the ferns on the menu card next time instead of beside it.
Step eight. Wave to everyone as you make the grand exit. If no one waves back except the politer waiter, you are being ignored. Which is just as well for that's what you wanted.
If someone waves back, walk out and walk in again and repeat steps one to eight. After all, that waving should leave you hungry.
