Margarita in one hand, quesadilla in the other. And here I am, getting ready to entertain you with another story that is, essentially, a non-story. I’m at the Mexican restaurant, alone. And by saying this I am not using a cliche’ technique to give you some context or create a powerful atmosphere. That’s the the story. Me. At the restaurant. Alone. Do you remember that Friends episode when Rachel discovers the beauty of lonely meals but then she stops after realising that it’s actually depressing and humiliating? Well it’s that kind of situation. If you’re not one of those ticklish folks who actually give a damn about a what a couple of overfed strangers or underpaid waiters* think about you, you might actually find that eating alone can, at times, be a thoroughly enjoyable experience. I mean, it is true. People DO stare a lot, mostly with pity, when you ‘re sitting alone at the table. As if eating a bowl of guacamole by yourself is