“Table for one?” the waitress asked me with a touch of “poor dear” in her voice. She couldn’t imagine that I was excited about it.

“Maybe you’d be happier at the counter, hon?” she said, folding a sentence into a question by the tone of her voice.

“I’ve done counters. It’s time for a table,” I replied cheerfully.

It was during my early days of moving to New York after college, and I was job hunting. Hesitantly, she seated me at a table where I spread out my New York Times classified section and ordered a bagel and a cup of hot water for the tea bag in my purse.

Back home in Virginia, I had gotten used to ordering the 99-cent special at the counter at the Woolworth’s five-and-dime that was near my summer job at a real estate agency. Eating alone at a restaurant table was a first of many firsts for me, including realizing that 99-cent meals that included hot tea were now a thing of the past. Yet here I was “adulting,” as it is now called, at a table for one, and I was surprisingly comfortable.

The big bargain of that breakfast was the experience. I became at ease eating at a restaurant on my own. It was a lack of funds, not nerve, that kept me from doing it more often. I was surprised to discover that many of the women at the publishing company where I worked shared the same poor-dear attitude as the waitress who had seated me.

“Oh no, you had to eat alone,” one of my friends moaned when I returned from lunch one day.

“I didn’t have to; I chose to.”

“But why?”

“I guess I enjoy my own company,” I said, laughing.

But it was more than that. I liked the comfort of choices. To eat alone, dance alone or daydream alone … or with others. Both were good.

I had started taking a notebook with me when I dined alone and found it to be a good writing time. One summer many years later, I wrote a book of poetry at the outdoor garden of a Pasadena restaurant.

As research for this column, I went out to lunch by myself, something I hadn’t done in a long time. I took my notebook and sat at a table for one. And I was happy to learn that I still liked the company.

Email patriciabunin@sbcglobal.net. Follow her on Patriciabunin.com.