Cafe Ronery

A workmate was telling me that he goes into his local café to do his downloads. I wasn't listening properly and was disturbed. After clarifying, we moved on. He has an internet connection at home but just likes to use other people’s gear for the bigger stuff that might actually push his piddling download limit into the red.

I congratulated him on his outstanding tightness - which led to more confusion.

Not being a native English speaker, he thought that I was getting at something else and asked if it was weird to sit in a café by himself.

This led to some exploration of modern manners.

My answer was, “No. Sitting in a café by yourself is fine. Sitting in a movie theatre by yourself is not."

"Huh?" he enquired.

"In a café, particularly if you have an open laptop, you are the roving intellectual on sabbatical, just getting some quick marking done before you leap off to your torrid assignation with a local musician. Or, you are the action-archaeologist just confirming the 4-wheel-drive hire for your trip into the dead heart. In a movie theatre... there’s nothing else you could be doing. You’re just lonely.”

“What about in a restaurant by yourself?” he asked.

“Now this one can be tricky,” I said. “Some people just give off the lonely loser vibe but here’s my sure-fire tip for avoiding that and looking a bit interesting. You might even get a discount. Have a notepad and pen on the table next to you. This sends out the message that you are busy, perhaps a novelist or a journalist. You also stand a chance of being mistaken for a food critic which works well in most places other than Sydney or New York.”

Others then joined in to discuss other places where it was okay or not okay to be alone.

One felt that being the only man in a yoga class was a bastard. No matter where he rested his eyes, some woman always looked back at him in a suspicious manner. His yoga classes are not relaxing or fun anymore because he always, no matter what the position, has to look at the ceiling.

Being alone at the zoo is bad. You have either lost your kids, or you're there looking for someone else’s.

I suggested that riding a bike by yourself on a Sunday morning was bad. Smurf disagreed.

“I was always the one on the bike on Sunday morning because my bike was the only one with a basket for the papers and eggs.”

“No," I said, "I'm not talking about a hung-over smurf in ug-boots weaving towards a 7/11. I mean being some plonk in all the racing gear and taking it seriously. Maybe even sitting at the café by themselves with the bike out the front, halfway through their ride. That’s when it’s bad to be in a café by yourself... with a bike.”

All at the table nodded and looked at me, like the sage I am. I'm pretty sure.