Dinner for one

Many traps are set in the modern age to dishearten even the most steadfast and diligent member of society. Carbon Footprints remind you you’re an overconsuming planet-wrecking luxury-whore, DFS adverts are designed to make you guilty you don’t own more sofas and history reminds you that everyone who’s ever existed before you has had a much, much worse time of it than you ever possibly could.
Another bad thing about history though is that it succesfully places your worries at the bottom of the all-time worry tree. Chief amongst modern worries is the “I’m far too single” worry.
Dinner for one is a debilitating, torrid modern phenomenon. It’s ok to grab a sandwich (rubbish food) on your own of a lunchtime, it’s even ok to decide you’re not that hungry and have just a bowl of cereal for tea. All of that is fine and not THAT rubbish. No, the real emotional suffering comes about from either purchasing or creating a generous, rich single portion dinner for your self again and again, night after night for weeks on end.
The ultimate super-bad is cooking a Marks and Spencer single portion of steamed chicken with a bagged salad, a steak and ale pie or quiche for one from a box. You’ll have been enticed into buying it by the sultry tones of Dervla Kirwan doing her disgusting food-porn adverts. You know the ones, everything in Marks’ range is shown either having gravy/raspberry sauce poured on it very slowly or being dug into with a ridiculously shiny silver fork.
Essentially the whorish description of the food along with the masturbatory images have lulled you into associating it with sexy. In reality it’s twice as good as anyone else’s food because it’s exactly twice as expensive and thus, you get what you pay for. It still doesn’t stop it being soul-destroying to eat good food on your own.
Dinner for one on a regular basis is rubbish, it’s a sign you’re dead inside and out.This is particularly true if it is accompanied by sustained television watching You’re treating yourself to something you don’t deserve because for whatever reason you’ve shunned society or they’ve exiled you to your own home. It can be solved though if people just adopt this simple rule; after seven nights you HAVE to be accompanied. Even if it involves chiding old friends, making new ones or treating some homeless panhandler to a full meal. You have to. Society benefits from being more cohesive and you benefit from not being a certified cave-dweller. Either way, the rubbishness of dinner for one just grows exponentially as your sole-dining streak grows. Let’s end it now.