006: Sunset, Interrupted
I just wanted to enjoy the sunset, why did he have to bother me?
Today’s story was about a time I just wanted to take myself out on a nice date, the discomfort that came with it, and my ultimate experience of it.
If you happen to come across this piece and are open to being interviewed about a time you broke beyond, please reach out. I’d love to chat!
I’d been traveling solo through Thailand for a few weeks and was getting familiar with Bangkok. A sprawling city of skyscrapers, seamless public transit, and the most beautiful malls I’d ever seen. After a month of traveling alone, I had gotten used to eating alone. It was hard at first but I learned to see it as necessary. Caring, even.
As my time in Bangkok came to an end, I decided to take myself out on a date. Not a meal somewhere to take care of my body but an intentional, romantic outing for myself with myself. It was one way I could challenge the societal belief that you need a partner or friend to go to nice places. Plus, it was an opportunity to reflect on my time in Bangkok while doing one of my favorite things, watching the sunset. My cousin recommended that I go to this rooftop bar that offers a beautiful view of the sunset, Banyan Tree Bangkok.
I put on the little makeup I had and wore the only dress I was traveling with in my backpack. I rarely wear makeup but I wanted to do this for myself. I was excited. Scared and nervous because it felt different than the meals I ate by myself on a daily basis but, ultimately, excited.
I took a taxi to the hotel. As I entered the hotel, I quickly became aware of how upscale it is. The scent in the hotel felt like stepping into another world, a palace. There was a subtle scent of jasmine and polished wood, with a hint of citrus that would be easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention. It took a minute for my body to adjust from the chaos just outside the entrance doors. A woman was playing music on the grand piano off to the side of the lobby seating with a small audience of well-dressed elders. There were gold accents on the furniture and walls to amplify the grandeur with real lotus flowers on display.
Overcome with wonder, I suddenly felt too embarrassed to ask for help–what if they think I’m stupid or tell me I can’t be there? Instead of asking for help, which would have been a completely normal thing to do, I walked around the entire lobby until I finally came to an elevator and went in.
The rooftop bar must be on the floor labeled RT, I deduced, as I pushed the button.
I was joined in the elevator by two couples dressed in cocktail attire. The women’s outfits were on point and their makeup looked professionally done. I can still remember the deep green dress one of them was wearing. It was satin, off-the-shoulder, and went just below her knees with a slit up to her thigh. I immediately felt underdressed in my black spaghetti strap maxi dress. I shouldn’t be here. My discomfort was hard to ignore.
As we approached the rooftop, the two couples stepped out ahead of me. They seemed to know where to go so I followed them along a pathway that led to a an outdoor restaurant. The rooftop looked like a bougie perfume commercial starring top models in their finest cocktail attire. I stood there, waiting for the hostess feeling like a Hostess Twinkie mistakenly placed next to a Michelin-starred Strawberry Arnaud.
Trying to forget how displaced I felt, I marveled at the fact that the hotel had a perfect view of the Bangkok skyline but would also be part of the skyline from a different vantage point. The sun was slowly lowering in the sky, the perfect time for a romantic dinner. The excited part of me squealed on the inside for my solo date.
After the two couples were seated, I approached the host.
“How many in your party?”
Behind him, I scanned the restaurant. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that it was full of couples. My excitement, again, became discomfort.
“Uh... Just one.”
Apparently, I was too quiet, “Could you repeat that?”
“A table for one,” I said maybe a little too aggressively.
The host jerked his head up after hearing my tone. He was young, probably in his early 20s. He was clean shaven and his hair was well maintained, as were his eyebrows. Another model on this rooftop of models.
“Will you be eating dinner?”
“No, just drinks and snacks,” my eyes scanned the room, looking for a table of girlfriends, a family, another person dining solo, anything.
He smiled as if to acknowledge my discomfort or, at least, that’s what I told myself, “In that case, the bar would be a better choice for you. You can choose your own spot just over there. The seating up those stairs is open for anyone.”
“Perfect, thank you!”
To get to the bar area he was referring to, I had to walk through the entire restaurant by myself. I made my way through the pool of couples. I felt like I was on display for everyone to see. I wanted nothing more than to run out of there, pickup a to-go meal, and eat it alone in my hotel room.
All I could hear in my mind was, you don’t belong here, Shailla. I tried to fight back but there wasn’t much conviction in my response.
Yea, I do…
I looked around for a table that had seating for one. They only had tables for two or four. I decided to sit at a two-seater table with, in my opinion, the best view of the sunset. It was also tucked away in a corner creating the illusion of being hidden.
My server approached with a menu, “Welcome to Banyan Tree. Here’s your menu. Will anyone be joining you tonight?”
“No, just me,” I responded, as I flipped through the menu, avoiding eye contact.
“Would you like any recommendations?”
“Sure, whats your most popular red? Nothing too dry.”
He pointed to the menu I was holding, “This malbec from Argentina would fit what you’re looking for.”
$32 per glass? Yikes, I should have looked at the menu before I came here. I hadn’t considered how expensive this romantic solo date would be.
“Okay, great, thanks. I’ll look at the menu some more and let you know.”
As I looked around, I noticed the tables were filling with more and more couples.
The server made his way back to me, “Are we ready to order?”
“Yes, I’ll get the pinot noir from France,” it was the second cheapest at $20 per glass, “and an order of snack mix.”
“Excellent choices. I’ll bring those right out.”
I pulled out my Kindle to read while I waited. I would occasionally look around to see how the place was filling up. There were no tables left and a line had formed where I came in from.
The sun was approaching golden hour. The server brought my wine and snack mix. For a $20 wine, it wasn’t that great but the view more than made up for it.
The sun would be putting on a show soon and I had front-row seats. I put my Kindle down to be present. As I was getting myself settled to watch and enjoy the show, I noticed, in my periphery, a couple standing at the bar. They looked a older than me and were dressed just as well as everyone else.
The man looked upset. He was looking around, scanning the bar seating area. The tables were all taken by couples on dates or double dates. As he scanned the room, his eyes made their way to my corner. While looking in my direction, he said something to his date. She glanced over at me but then shook her head “no” while looking back at him. He put his hand up as if to tame or calm her.
My discomfort heightened. He wants my spot, I thought. I already felt out of place and now felt bad that two people were inconvenienced because of me. The guy at the bar noticed me noticing them and I quickly averted my eyes back towards the sunset.
Soon after, the man started walking towards me. His date stayed by the bar, watching.
My stomach twisted. Panic rose to the surface. I just hoped it didn’t show on my face.
He spoke with the annoyance and sense of entitlement of a spoiled child of a billionaire, “Will you be here much longer?”
My mind put me down without missing a beat, I told you you don’t belong here.
With extreme difficulty and a desire to display confidence, I responded, “I’m planning to watch the sunset.”
He rolled his eyes and walked back to his date. She comforted him with a sympathetic look and a hand on his arm.
He seemed upset. Did I just ruin a proposal? I considered giving up my spot, feeling bad for the couple. Then a small voice cut through the guilt. If he was proposing, he should have planned better.
I took a deep breath, grabbed my wine glass, and brought my attention back to the sunset.
Moments later, I noticed the same guy talking to my server and pointing in my direction with his head.
Soon after the exchange, my server approached me, “Ma’am would you like another glass of wine or should I get the check?”
What an asshole.
It’s possible the wine I drank was starting to hit me because I looked towards the guy who sent the server to check on me and smiled at him before looking back at my server and responding, “You know, I think I’ll have another.”
“Excellent. I’ll be right back with your glass.”
I had no intention of ordering another glass and spending $20 more but it was worth watching the server tell the man my decision, confirming that I would not be leaving. He looked like he was ready to explode.
I started to affirm myself sitting there. I am a paying customer. I haven’t even been sitting here that long. I have every right to be here, as much as any couple.
The first glass of wine definitely started hitting me because when I was brought the second glass, I, again, looked towards the guy who wanted my spot, made sure he saw me, locked eyes with him, and cheersed with my glass and a smirk.
Then, I thoroughly enjoyed watching nature do what it does best with my favorite date, me.
Stay Tuned
Thank you for taking the time to read this post. Your attention could have been on any number of other things but you chose to spend time with my story. Subscribe or follow to keep up with this journey.
Currently
Reading: Excerpts from Worlds Fair by EL Doctorow
Listening to: Bernie Sanders on the Flagrant podcast
Thinking about: What I’m going to wear to the Kendrick and SZA concert.
Posts I Recently Read and Loved
The Art of Making Love Without Touching by Joi Brown
It is not fireworks. It is firewood. The slow building of something that can last through storms.
Can You Miss A Man You Never Met Except In Thousands of Words? by Linda Caroll
Funny thing is, it’s not really time that trips us up. It’s not. It’s our fears.
What if it’s no good, what if I fail, what if I suck, what if no one likes it, what if, what if? What if I spend all my time chasing this stupid f—ing dream and it fails and was a big waste of time, huh? Then what? A thousand what ifs and no two ever the same.
I Went to a Chain Restaurant Alone and Spent the Entire Meal Pretending to Be a Food Critic by Michelle J
The real turning point came when I asked my server about the "preparation method for the bourbon glaze" and she nervously told me she'd check with the kitchen.





Love the way you responded to this and how you managed your own negative self talk. Solo travelling and dining is definitely a muscle I haven’t exercised in far too long!
Amazing story, gorgeously told. So relatable, although the way you navigated the external circumstances and self talk was, I think, rare and impeccable. The end was *chef’s kiss.* Thank you for these awesome tales. Keep them coming!