Chapter 3 – People watching par excellence
It has been a while since I published Chapters 1 and 2 on the topic of solo dining. If you missed them, just click on the links or browse through my older blogs if you like. Chapter 3 is dedicated to one of the most fun parts of solo-dining: People watching. Because, let’s face it, if you are in company, you hardly ever notice the people around you unless they are extraordinarily obnoxious. But watching people dine is one of the most interesting ways to people watch when you have nothing else to distract you. And without being a judge or psychologist, you learn to predict behaviours and can royally entertain yourself by anticipating certain scenarios. Who is going to pick up the check; who will be ordering what for desert; or who is simply going to eat next to nothing but order it all.
As a little disclaimer, I will have to insert a parenthesis here and tell you that I am helplessly old-school when it comes to table manners; my grandma taught me how to eat oranges and bananas with knife and fork. I will just let that sink in. “Sit upright and elbows off the table!” I sometimes still hear that phrase ringing in my ear, especially when I see atrocious table manners of fellow humans. How much I miss my gran. But she wouldn’t be all that pleased when dining out these days.
Earlier this year, I have been to this rather nicely located restaurant with a cool, laid-back appeal near Palma’s marina. While it wasn’t a particularly formal atmosphere, it wasn’t a beach bar either. However, some – or most of the foreign tourists – seemed to mistake it for the former and you saw it all. And I mean all. The chalk-skinned lady applying sunscreen all over herself at the table (to be clear: not just the face); the British new money couple silencing their already quiet three-year-old with headphones and a gigantic iPad before they had even ordered anything. Not only did this poor child not benefit from natural stimulants, but he also wasn’t really getting any proper food either. While her ladyship was sipping (or downing, depending on how you look at it) an entire bottle of white wine, picking through her spaghetti alle vongole and a fresh salad over probably checking her socials, her husband was busy ordering everything on the menu, complaining to the waiting staff and pretending to send work emails.
At some point, I made a bet with myself that this poor child would probably get some French fries shoved down his face or a sandwich from a Tupperware (after all, the multiple diaper bags must have been for something). In the end, it was actually both fries and a soggy sandwich from the Tupperware. And apparently, you can administer French fries to your child while still watching the screen of your phone. This display made me incredibly sad and as much as I am not a fan of screaming toddlers running through a restaurant, this entire scenario was somehow so much worse.
Next, we had a group of scarcely clad Americans lounging on their chairs, taking off their shoes and getting drunk in the tempting April sun; a mixed group of New Zealanders and/or Australians not taking ‘I am sorry, we do not have free tables unless you have a reservation…?’ as an answer and simply staying put (i.e. standing literally next to my table), blocking the walkways for the waiters and discussing topics of geopolitical import while simply just being a pain to everyone.
With the Germans, you just know that the women are the treasurers of the family budget, even in public. Mutti will take out her wallet and deal with the bill as overtly as humanly possible, that is for sure. Germans also find it only natural to use their mother tongue when addressing the staff, especially in Mallorca. It’s the 17th Bundesland, is it not?
When it comes to food though, you can at least count on the Italians. A very large family gathering, including a few small children that were allowed to be in the presence and company of their parents and grandparents were seated right in my line of sight. No one was crying, no one was arguing. There they were, enjoying each other’s company and a meal under the pleasant shade of the fabric sails that were installed over stretches of the beautiful terrace of this restaurant. When I see scenes like that, I become sadly aware of being there by myself only.
The middle-aged Spanish couple, still clad in thin puffer jackets like me (because it was the beginning of April and far from warm) were quietly making their exit before I could signal the staff to bring the bill as well.
I challenge you to try it for yourself. Next time you are wondering whether you should go out to have lunch or dinner by yourself, you should find yourself a seat with a good vantage point and start observing what is happening around you rather than be on your phone. You can learn so much about people and their habits when they think no one is watching them and it can be so entertaining, just like watching a series.
The comfy traveller's diaries 