Table For One: Dining Solo in NYC

Polloplayer

Ten days alone in Manhattan! I wasn’t sure whether to rejoice or hire a bodyguard. I mean, I’ve spent enough time in the city to know uptown from downtown (despite my propensity to exit the subway and head the wrong direction), but I’ve never been a one-woman act here before. And perhaps it did not bode well that the day after I arrived, some madman was wielding hammers at unsuspecting women in Union Square and thugs were mugging people in Central Park.

Should I just stay in and let the pizza boxes stack up until the CE arrives?

Cooking, by the way, was out of the question. We made a vow the day we closed escrow on our little apartment that our minuscule kitchen would function as a mud room and a storage facility, but cooking? Never! For us, food preparation describes popping the plastic lid off of a container…

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