This is a continuation from the story on the home page. And the start of my culinary adventures around the country. After a long day of meetings, I went back to my hotel room around 6:30 p.m. and sat down on my bed. I had an early flight the next morning and the sheer thought of going to find a place to eat on my own was overwhelming.
I was in Boston – a place I had been numerous times. This was different as I didn’t have the safety blanket of friends and family. This was a turning point for me as I knew many of my nights would be spent on the road and on my own. I got changed out of my work clothes and headed down to Quincy Market where I stumbled upon a busy Mexican spot – Mija. (http://mijaboston.com/) I walked in confidently and sidled up between groups of friends at the bar. I quickly ordered a margarita to disguise how uncomfortable I felt wedged between people who had people.
It wasn’t long after I ordered my drink that the group of friends on my right was replaced by a gentleman on his own. He ordered a Jameson (which is my drink of choice) and some food before proceeding with, “a separate check for my drinks, please?”. I immediately knew he was also in town for work and looking for a decent place to enjoy a beverage and some yummy food. Long story short, Paul lived north of me in Florida and was in town for a business trip. His son was a bit younger than me and studied at the Wharton School of Business. We became fast friends and after he expressed his love for live music we headed off to the Black Rose to listen to the band.
This is one of those evenings that changed my perception about being on my own. I was no longer “alone”, but merely a “sole diner”.