#oneaday, Day 187: Flying Solo

Ever been out on the town by yourself? It’s generally a miserable experience, particularly if you’re not the most sociable of people in the first place. And by that I mean the sort of person who doesn’t generally talk to strangers at the best of times.

I’ve done it a couple of times, though not for a while. It generally goes something like this:

Step 1: Claustrophobia

You’re in your house/flat/bedsit/hovel/cupboard. You have been stuck in said accommodation for some time now. By yourself. It’s getting rather tiresome. Perhaps you’re living by yourself. Or perhaps you live with people you don’t get on with. Or perhaps you live with people who are never there. Whatever the reason, you’re in by yourself, you’re fed up and you feel like the walls are closing in a bit. So you decide that it would be a really great idea to go out. Even though none of your friends are free, because you only decided to go out a minute ago and when you texted them a minute ago, half of them didn’t reply and the other half politely requested that you give them a bit more notice next time. So much for spontaneity.

Step 2: Confidence

You get dollied up and step out of your front door. You’re going out! By yourself! Feels good, doesn’t it? You’re not tied to social conventions that require you to be in a group of at least 3 people (less than 3 and you’re going “with” someone, which is perilously close to “date” territory)—you’re doing things your way!

Step 3: Adventurousness

You’re out by yourself and there’s no-one with you to judge you. Perhaps you’ll try something you’ve never done before, because there’s no-one you know to mock you, laugh at you, berate you or tell you you’re doing it wrong—or worse, do it better than you. Perhaps you decide to try smoking, because you’ve never done it before, or perhaps you talk to a random stranger in the street, or go down a road you’ve never been down before or—hell!—go to a pub or club you’ve never been to before.

Step 4: Arrival

You arrive at the place you decided to go to. You purchase yourself a drink and find yourself a good “spot” in which to observe the action. If this is a pub, this should be a table with a good view of everyone else who is there with their friends. Or possibly a stool at the bar, where you can turn your back on the rest of society. If this is a club, this should be a seat at the edge of the dance floor, where you can look longingly at the people who are probably having more fun than you.

Step 5: Realisation

“I’ve come out by myself. That was a really stupid thing to do.”

Step 6: Depression

You stay in your spot, watching everyone around you actually having a good time—or so you believe, anyway; in actual fact they might be having a miserable time, just dancing while they do it—and slump into a bit of an alcohol-fueled depression.

Step 7: The Second Wind

You decide that no, you’re not going to let this defeat you. You get up and maybe decide to try a dance by yourself.

Step 8: The Bad Idea

“That was a terrible idea. Now everyone is looking at me like I’m an idiot.”

Step 9: Time To Go Home

“I hope the bouncers and the people on the door don’t recognise me and realise I’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”

Step 10: Regret

“That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I’m never doing that again.”

But you will. Just to see if it’s any different next time.