Dining with strangers
Recently on my Facebook newsfeed, I received advertisement called Timeleft. It is an app which books us to have dinners with complete strangers. It caught my attention because of its tagline:
‘Life’s too short for solo dinners’.
That’s simultaneously one of the saddest and most hilarious things I have ever read.
I understand why an extrovert would dread doing lots of solitary activities; if introverts like myself would feel drained after doing lots of social ones, I imagine extroverts would feel the same doing the exact opposite.
But, my introverted self can also acknowledge that social activities are just as crucial; they teach me to be more tactful (even though I wish more people are more direct) and they are good for my health (assuming the people are not abusive). So, I don’t see why extroverts should be exempted from solitude, something which would give them the opportunity to contemplate about their own thoughts and feelings.
People would hate me for this: I believe people who refuse to be solitary even just for few seconds are mentally unwell.
We rightfully put that label on anyone who completely avoid interactions with any humans, even the human cashiers. So, I don’t see why we shouldn’t put that label on anyone who are the extreme opposites.
I do believe you are mentally unwell if you cannot stand being alone with your own thoughts and feelings.
In the app’s Facebook page, defending the laughable tagline, a commenter argues solo dining will never be as enriching as dining with other people. I agree, to an extent.
If my fellow diners have anything new or refreshing to bring to the table by having their own (non-hateful and well-informed) opinions and being true to themselves, dining together is indeed more enriching.
But, if my fellow diners are nothing but conformists who are too obsessed about blending in and thoughtlessly regurgitating what societies tell them to believe, then dining together is far from an enriching experience .
In fact, it is the exact opposite.
Speaking from my own anecdotes, some of them believe unsophistication, close-mindedness and impressionability are virtuous and commendable. They despise how not everyone shares their traits and they certainly won’t live peacefully until they bring the rest of mankind to their low levels. It is even worse when they are bigoted and extremist.
So yes, life’s too short to not enjoy solo dining. Not everyone is worth your time and moderate level of pickiness is a good thing.
To change the focus a bit, the concept of this app reminds me of urban planning.
In the field, there is a concept called the third place. It is a place which is neither our home nor our workplace, it is also more than just a place we hang out in.
Local cafes, local pubs, local parks, local libraries, local community centres, local internet cafes, warungs if you are from Indonesia, any close-knit places within walking distances from our houses where we can have impromptu encounters with familiar faces from our neighbourhoods/local communities, where conversations flow so naturally that even striking ones with strangers is relatively easy.
No, malls do not count as third places. Because they attract people from beyond our neighbourhoods/local communities, you are far less likely to see familiar faces. Because they are significantly larger, you are also far less likely to strike conversations with strangers. Malls are the complete opposite of close-knit.
People everywhere have raised concerns about the increasing loneliness among modern humans. For people in the urbanist communities, we already know the increasing scarcity of third places is one of the root problems. While their existence alone cannot prevent rampant loneliness, it certainly wouldn’t exacerbate it.
If there is no increasing scarcity of third places, would apps like Timeleft be as successful?
.
.
.
.
.
.