I read this article in today's New York Times. It reminded me of one of the many reasons I love New York so much...it's perfectly acceptable to go out to eat by yourself and not be weird. I mean, if there's a professional yodeler down the hall and a woman on the next block who makes a living as a pet psychic, eating out alone won't raise any eyebrows.
And I also love to read as I eat. Though I agree with several of the commenters: eating requires light reading. (Harry Potter, a magazine, emails) My main problem is I have trouble when I'm supposed to stop reading...half a day later my cereal bowl is congealing and I'm still at the table promising myself "I'll stop at the end of this chapter."
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