domingo, 13 de junho de 2010


The good thing about being in Europe is that nobody thinks you're a freak just because you're having lunch in a restaurant on your own. In fact there are quite a few fellow lonely diners everywhere I go.

When I was in Sao Paulo on my own, right after Barba Ruiva had left for Texas, I tried once to go have lunch on my own in a restaurant kind of close to home. I got such weird looks I never did that again. Certainly you must be a freak if you are having a meal alone in Brazil.

At that time also I didn't have a blackberry. Yours truly is right now having lunch at a decent Belgian chain in the heart of Marylebone typing those words and eating a Caesar salad, listening to country French music. How could one feel alone right-o?

The other trick I've seen people doing while they're waiting for their meal to come is to open a book or the newspaper and glance at it. It works fantastically! And it's very understandable since Europeans are very prone to culture and they're always reading, in the subway, in the restaurants, everywhere. On the other hand, Brazilians think that people who read are indeed very weird, probably the freakest of all freaks on Earth.

Right to my left now some girl my age just sat there alone, opened a magazine, ordered a glass of wine and now got the same Caesar salad. Ain't that fun?

But now that I got my coffee and paid my bill you guys will forgive me but I get to leave. I need to go to Harrods in order to buy a gift for my brother who's getting married in 2 weeks.

Thanks for keeping me company, hasta la vista!

2 comentários:

Vinicius disse...


Durante anos almoçando sózinho em restaurantes na Banânia nunca notei qualquer olhar estranho para o meu lado. Exceto uma única vez no MacDonalds em São Paulo, sentei numa mesa ao lado de uma outra mesa onde estava sentada uma mulher e ela perguntou grosseiramente por que eu havia escolhida aquele lugar. Respondi porque estava vazio e pensei comigo mesmo – está ai uma paranóica de carteirinha.

Funes, o memorioso disse...

Eu gosto de comer sozinho. Bem, sozinho, sozinho, detesto. Mas gosto de comer com o meu jornal. E fico decepcionado quando aparece algum conhecido.