I arrived the other night in the Twin Cities for a client meeting, and stayed in the ultra-swank Graves 601 hotel in downtown Minneapolis. The kind of place you walk into and, thanks to the genius lighting scheme, sculptural elements, music and overall vibe, you feel way cooler than you have any business being.
I dropped my stuff off in a room that could have been a soundstage for some Hollywood movie, wherein Ryan Gosling should, on cue, sweep in and knock me over onto the goose down bed for some gratuitous activity before I slip on heels and prance down to dinner or a car chase or a bank heist. Since this was not the case, and it was very much just me in a wrinkled shirt, I left my bag and proceeded to have dinner in the atmosphere-heavy Cosmos restaurant on the 4th floor.
And this was my best decision of the day: Sit at the spare, sexy bar and order a glass of prosecco as long as my arm. (I didn’t actually make that request; that’s how they come at Cosmos.) It was just what I or anyone needs after the cranky rigmarole that travel entails: a mouthful (or several) of cool, crisp, sparkly libation.
I also want to take a moment here to address the issue of eating alone at a bar. Why do people, especially women, have a problem with it (ok, maybe you don’t, but plenty do)? That night the bar was dotted with business professionals dining alone and there wasn’t one thing sad about it. Men and women. I for one find it’s one of the best ways to enjoy a meal mindfully–you can actually chew and taste and enjoy without having to talk around your food.
Not that I don’t love sharing a meal of course, because is there anything better? But if you let yourself savor a meal in a delicious little bubble of solitude, without worrying what people may think (trust me, no one’s thinking anything about you or me–they’re too busy worried about themselves, as we all are), you’ll expose yourself to a singular kind of joy.
By the time I finished up my little meal (caesar salad that was eh, but roasted sea scallops and earthy, umami-esque hen-of-the-woods mushrooms in a sweet, thick sauce) and drained my glass, I felt light and bubbly myself. Relaxed and satisfied, I teetered to my room to take in a hot shower (with multiple heads!), slipped into the soft envelope of my hotel bed and sent myself off to dreamland.