How to Eat Brunch Alone Without Feeling Like a Loser

I know this is stating the obvious, but life is nothing without brunch. In the last few years, brunch has gone through a transformation. Nowadays, brunch is more than just having breakfast at lunchtime. Brunch is a mandatory social gathering of like-minded individuals. Brunch is the new church, but better because of potatoes. As much as it feels good to receive texts at 10 AM from friends who want to brunch it with me, I feel there is something even more special about brunching alone.

Take this Sunday morning for instance: I woke up and looked like vomit incarnate. I drank way too much last night and am now starving. I really do not have the time or energy to find friends to eat with me. Not only that, but if I met up with friends, I'd have to shower and look my Sunday best. Without friends, I can stay looking like garbage and practically wear my pajamas to the local brunch spot. By the way, this is another example of the power of brunch in Los Angeles. Restaurants can solely be "brunch spots" and operate for only a few hours a day.

I get inside and immediately am greeted by a sea of young moms in their longest, most flowing maxi dresses. Their big floppy sunhats, and virgin mojitos say "I may be a mom, but I'm still fun." To the left of me is a group of bros wearing backwards caps bonding over some crazy shit that went down last night while eating breakfast burritos. I choose to sit near a guy and a girl that probably just had a one night stand, but are now trying their hardest to feign real interest in one another. At least for another hour. This is what's nice about being alone. I get to observe everyone around me, and study their actions. I get to eavesdrop on conversations, and maybe even take notes. I'm the Jane Goodall of brunch.

People tend to feel self-conscious eating alone in public. I got over this years ago, and life has vastly improved ever since. Your doubts and worries about what people around you are thinking, they're never (really) true. In reality, no one gives a shit about you. No one cares that you're alone. No one thinks you're a loser. Just sit down, and tell your brain to shut up. Bring a book (if you still read those things), or occupy yourself with your cellphone. Or, do neither and just sit. Be alone with yourself and reflect on all the mistakes you made this weekend. That's exactly what I'm doing right now. I already ordered my scrambled eggs, my toast, and my hash browns. Which, by the way, is the perfect brunch. It's easy to get sidetracked by the whole "lunch" part of brunch, but breakfast is the goddamn best meal of the day. Eggs, and hash browns—these are the things that make me proud to be an American. We perfected breakfast, so no I don't want to get a spinach salad instead. Now, I wait for the sustenance while going over who the hell I talked to last night. How did I even get home?

A few minutes go by, and I remember a late night cab ride. The night is coming back to me slowly, and I remember someone spilling salsa on my hair. My food arrives and I attack it with full force, briefly forgetting I am in public. Sorry folks, but I need carbs right now. I need grease. The only two things that will fix this hangover. A family asks me if I am using my extra chair. Obviously, I am not. I smile and let them have it, saving their brunch. I am a hero. I continue eating like a pig, reminding myself how nice it is to not have anyone I know see me like this.

I finish, and pay fifteen dollars for food I could have pretty easily made at home. I did treat myself today to some fresh-squeezed orange juice, which cost four dollars. As idiotic as it feels to pay so much for a cup of juice, it also just feels right. Coffee, orange juice, eggs. This was exactly what I needed to jump start my day.

Now I will walk home, and watch Netflix for several hours.

This is the beauty of brunching alone. Skip the friends every now and then, and tackle your late breakfast like a lone wolf. Be stoic, proud, and feel free to look like crap.