Some people cannot bear doing things by themselves. They need a date or, failing that, have to meet a group of like-minded folks to go to a movie or out to dinner. I’ve a theory about such people: I’m thinking they grew up in large, close families, and as they reached their maturities they felt the warm, constant support of loyal siblings at every turn so that by the time they reached adulthood the idea of going somewhere alone, or even spending an evening without company, terrifies them. When they can predict they might have to spend an evening without a companion, they pull out a list of friends or even acquaintances and try to contact each of them to organize a group outing, small party, or at least a meeting with someone, anyone, even if only one person. And they won’t get particular about whom they end up with, either, if it’s not their first or second choice. I have some experience in this regard, having found myself in the company of people with this, well, let’s call it a phobia, and realizing that I’m probably number seven or eight on the list, if that.
You might ask why I choose to describe this irrational fear. I do so because I find it fascinating that I’m disposed in quite a different manner. I certainly don’t shun opportunities to socialize with groups of friends. It’s simply that I don’t require the so-called comfort of the group. I’m not constructed that way. Why, on one occasion I decided to attend a boxing match featuring two prominent contestants. The match was to occur hundreds of miles from my town. Did I call one or more friends to make a day and evening of it? No. Without giving it a thought, I immediately purchased a train ticket, traveled to the fight venue, and viewed the event by myself, except, of course, for the thousands of other spectators, none of whom I knew or spoke to. Afterward, I returned late and alone. Often, I find myself attending films by myself and dining out as a party of one. Additionally, I’ve spent hours alone in bars or taverns, speaking to no one other than the bartender, drinking until I can’t see straight.
I did intimate I had a theory about those who feel they must surround themselves with friends; as to why I spend so much time alone, I haven’t a clue.
You might ask why I choose to describe this irrational fear. I do so because I find it fascinating that I’m disposed in quite a different manner. I certainly don’t shun opportunities to socialize with groups of friends. It’s simply that I don’t require the so-called comfort of the group. I’m not constructed that way. Why, on one occasion I decided to attend a boxing match featuring two prominent contestants. The match was to occur hundreds of miles from my town. Did I call one or more friends to make a day and evening of it? No. Without giving it a thought, I immediately purchased a train ticket, traveled to the fight venue, and viewed the event by myself, except, of course, for the thousands of other spectators, none of whom I knew or spoke to. Afterward, I returned late and alone. Often, I find myself attending films by myself and dining out as a party of one. Additionally, I’ve spent hours alone in bars or taverns, speaking to no one other than the bartender, drinking until I can’t see straight.
I did intimate I had a theory about those who feel they must surround themselves with friends; as to why I spend so much time alone, I haven’t a clue.
