Our theme for the month of June is “confessions.”
I have a confession. Duh Isabel. That’s the theme. I tried an old trick where you bring a notebook into a restaurant while you eat alone.
It started innocently enough. I had to pick up some friends from Charlotte, and I found myself with an afternoon to kill. I’d driven in early to avoid traffic and pop around to some shops and things. I had a list of thrift shops, coffee shops, and other places I wanted to visit. But I quickly flew through my list of spaces. With loads of time to murder, I remembered a story from a podcast I like—it was about a comedian and one of his friends just shooting shit. But there was this semi-anthropological feel.
This girl shared a story about how, when she moved to a new city, she began treating herself to dinner. Not just a quick slice or a sad bar sandwich—I’m talking real restaurants with a wine list. She brought a notebook with her and would jot things down as she ate, put on a show if you will. She faked being a food critic until the restaurants often treated her like she was one. Attentive service. Free drinks. Extras she hadn’t ordered.
People behave differently when they think they’re being observed. The social experiment of it is fascinating. I would be lying if I wasn’t interested in the possibility of getting a free drink.
So I tried it.
I picked a restaurant I’d never been to and wanted to try— trendy, with enough polish to seem like it could attract reviewers, but not so high-end that I’d need a reservation. I walked up alone, holding a tiny notebook in my hand with a pencil behind my ear, and asked for a table for one.
From the moment I sat down, I felt the performance begin—that stool was a stage and I was an actor. I made a show of slowly scanning the menu. I took notes after each bite. I asked a couple of questions that I immediately regretted because I didn’t know how to follow up on them. But sure enough—the waiter hovered. The manager came by. And here’s the thing: the food was mid. But the attention was nice. But performing that role, even just for fun, made me hyper-aware of how much I was being perceived. I love eating alone. It is usually a quiet pleasure, a kind of private indulgence. This felt—observed, a little dishonest, and a little out of body. It made me think of how much I treasure anonymity. It made me feel very aware of my actions, movements, and body language. And while I can’t say I fully regret the experiment—I won’t lie, the free drink was heavenly—I don’t know that I’d do it again.
Maybe the real takeaway is how hungry people are to impress someone who might be watching. Or it’s that I’ll do almost anything for a free treat.
Either way, I tip well—and my doodles in my tiny notebook are delightful.
Izzy Nunez graduated from Calvin in 2022 after studying graphic design and sociology. Today she lives in North Carolina where she is living out her dream of being a graphic designer.
