One thing I hate about being solitary is the shoddy treatment I get in public places. I ate at a restaurant the other night -- not a "nice" restaurant, but a decent one -- and the ever-cordial hostess (or whatever you call them now) promptly escorted me to my seat . . . in the back corner. Next to the kitchen. Where, presumably, I wouldn't be seen by normal, sociable folk despite the restaurant being virtually empty.

But the food was OK.