I can’t possibly be the first blogger/writer to address this subject so excuse me if this is beating a dead horse, but I have developed quite an appreciation for the trials and tribulations of restaurant dining for the single person (anyone, who for any reason, has chosen to dine alone) over the last year.

And I know from conversations with friends and relatives that this is a dilema faced by many, many people, so it frankly boggles my mind that the service industry at large hasn’t adopted an approach to this. It leaves me with the distinct impression that the business of a solo diner is simply not desired at many establishments. A notion that defies reason when you consider that I don’t always eat alone–and in fact often eat with large groups of people. A bad solo experience is not likely to incline me towards suggesting a location for friends.

Also, I will offer this disclaimer, which will hopefully calm the reactions of some hardened service personnel–this entry assumes that the solitary diner in question is not a complete jackass. If you are a rude, demanding, sloppy, sexist or otherwise lecherous individual, and if you tip like an asshat, you get what you deserve.

That being said, my experience as a lone diner in restaurants ranging from very nice to just above fast food, typically falls into one of three themes:

1. She is eating alone so let’s make sure she eats and gets out as quickly as possible.

This is infuriating from the standpoint that I tend to be going out to eat because not only would I like a nice meal but I’d also like to be out and about and surrounded by people for a little while before I return to my quiet home. I typically bring a book or magazine, which I always politely close when the wait staff approaches and I’m always more than happy to sit at the bar or at a “less desirable” table (in which case, if you seat me at a four top during dinner rush you really weren’t thinking). Also, I habitually try to do dinner and lunch early to avoid dealing with feeling rushed because of lines.

Two nights ago I had dinner at a very nice Italian place. I ordered an imported beer, a fairly expensive pasta dish and fully intended to enjoy dessert as well. My bread had barely reached the table before my meal was served. That was followed almost immediately by a bill–no offer of an additional beer or a glance at the dessert menu. Message heard and understood. I won’t be coming here again anytime soon.

2. She is dining alone, poor thing, she must be so lonely, let’s smother her.

Do I even need to explain why that’s annoying? Thank you for being attentive but we are not BFF. I need some tea, not every two minutes and not accompanied by the story of your life. Still and all, it is better than its evil sister:

3. She is dining alone and is therefore invisible.

I firmly believe that it is possible to strike a balance between these two approaches. If I am sitting at a table in a restaurant I expect to be waited on, at least to the extent that I’d like a drink and some food within a reasonable amount of time. And really, breadbaskets for one can still actually have some bread in them.

I don’t need you to hover, but I’d also prefer that you not ignore me entirely either. Beverages run out. Sauces are occasionally needed. If you are convinced upon site of me that as a solo diner I am not going to leave you a very good tip then you are fulfilling that prophecy by leaving me an empty beer or tea glass for 30 minutes. And I’d have to say that if business where you work is so strained that your tips are likely to be severely impacted by waiting on me for 45 minutes then you probably ought to go find a better place to work.

I think I’m a good patron. I tip 20 percent. I never leave less than three dollars on a table regardless of the total ($8 total = $3 tip). I don’t make a mess. I don’t snap my fingers and yell, “Miss!” across a room unless I’ve seriously been pushed to my limit by tediously absent service. I tend to order high-end entrees (not the dollar menu) and almost always add to that total with alcohol. And I’m a creature of habit who would very much like to find one or two reasonbly decent places to have dinner ALONE during the week. I am brand loyal and would encourage friends and family to reward such establishments with their own business.

So why is it still so rare in this day and age, to be able to dine alone without fear of reprisal?

I keep doing it. I’ll be damned if I’m going to order take-out all the time and cower in my apartment with a six-pack because it’s less annoying than dealing with the crap-shoot of solo dining.

Tonight I discovered Wolfgang Puck Express. Relatively good food, reasonbly priced. Beer is served and best yet, you order at a counter and pick it up yourself–wait staff is limited to clean-up–and the seating area was lovely and relaxing, making me want to linger a while and read my book.

Nevertheless, I maintain that service for the solitary diner is not an unreasonable or impossible expectation and I am actively seeking satisfaction on this front. And when I find it, you can count on me telling everyone I know. You can take that tip to the bank.