By the time I pulled into McDonald’s, I felt like turning right around and heading home.
I did not feel like approaching a total stranger and asking to sit down with them for dinner. Today of all days, I was feeling a little introverted and tired and could have done with a nice long stare at the wall.
But Alas! This was the challenge of the day, so I mustered my courage, grabbed my keys, and told myself there was no turning back.
I picked the local McDonald’s because it was likely I would find someone eating alone, and because McDonald’s happens to fit my budget for this challenge.
As I drove, I made some ground rules:
- Unless the other person asks you to leave, you have to eat your entire dinner with them
- No one of the opposite gender close to your age
- If the other person says no, you have to find someone else, even if you have to go to another restaurant
Walking into a restaurant and scoping out the dining area for lone diners makes you feel a little like a predator in the wild, I have to say. But it didn’t take long. I glanced around and almost immediately saw him sitting in the corner. He was wearing a plaid jacket and a gray beard, and in front of him sat a grocery bag, a cup of coffee, a fish sandwich and the Dayton Daily News.
Somewhere deep inside myself I have a streak of absolute, brazen fearlessness. We all do. This challenge, for me, is about tapping into it – even over something as silly and small as eating a burger with someone I don’t know.
I ordered a burger and fries and walked up to his table in front of a dining room full of people. He seemed surprised but not displeased, and immediately gestured for me to sit down.
His name was Dwight. He grew up in Wisconsin but came to Ohio when his father fell ill. His parents are buried in the Dayton Veteran’s Cemetery, he said.
Dwight was a little hard to talk to. He generally offered monosyllabic responses and avoided eye contact, constantly adjusting his coat or folding a napkin. But when he did talk, he seemed willing to share some of his story. He told me that Wisconsin is beautiful, and when I told him about my challenge, he quietly asked, “Are you going to write a book?”
I said maybe. I asked him if I could get him anything, and he said no, he was fine. I quietly ate my burger; he gazed out the window; we periodically talked.
Eventually Dwight excused himself to the bathroom.
I waited till he came back out and told him I was heading out. He said it was nice to meet me and thanked me for sitting down.
When I walked back out into the warm evening air, I felt silly that anything ever stopped me from sitting down with a stranger. Yes, there is a hump to get over. There are all these silly fears about what people will think and whether you’ll be rejected and God forbid something awkward happens. But when you do get over the hump, you’re rewarded by genuine connection with another human being, with a story that’s worth hearing, and at the very least, a moment to remind you both of your own humanity.
This adventure, I promised myself, is worth a repeat.