It seemed like a good idea. Anything had to be better than sitting at my desk answering another complaint by a constituent unhappy about a proposed one cent tax on soda pop. As I listened to the man ramble on and on, I envisioned myself on a beach, the waves rolling toward my bare body sprawled out on the soft, powdery sand. And so, the comforting idea suddenly came to me, my imagination overpowering the man's angry words. "I'm going to the beach, and I'm making the reservation as soon as I get this gruff old coot off the phone." And so it was the beginning of my vacation -- alone.

I never even thought twice about going to Mexico by myself. In fact, it seemed the perfect remedy to cure a sever case of worker burn-out. It simply didn't occur to me that I was in for a new kind of stress, the stress of being a single female while on vacation.

It sounds like a crime. Well, that's how I felt, like a criminal forced to explain my actions. I was so excited to be off on my journey, to forget my troubles, the pressure, the angry voices. That is until a voice said, "are you alone?" Wow, I thought, these flight attendants sure are nosey. "Yes, that's right," I explained, "I am on a three day vacation to get some much needed rest and to just chill out." "Interesting," he said. I thought to myself, what does that mean?

Interesting is one of those empty words that promise so much and often deliver so little. I tried not to think too much about it, just buried my head in my book and moved on. I arrived at my hotel, happy and full of expectations. I longed to put my toe in the sand, feel the warmth of the water lapping up on my pasty white skin. That's when another voice suddenly popped out of nowhere: "Is your husband getting your bags?" "No," I said, with a bit of an edge. "I'm alone. I have no husband. It's just me, little ole me." Was I defensive because I didn't have a husband or perhaps because people expected I should have a husband? Maybe I was over analyzing. I am known to do that on occasion. Anyway, I thought, this is my vacation, and I certainly don't need to put more pressure on myself wondering what other people are thinking. Right?

The sand seemed to melt under my feet, the water splashed sending tingles over my entire body. I spent the whole glorious day out in the sun. No worries in the world.

Then it was time for dinner. The couple seated next to me was having swordfish; the family next to them, tacos and traditional Mexican cuisine. At first I just looked at the food, my mouth salivating. But then I noticed, I was the only one in the whole cantina by myself. "Are you waiting for someone?" the waiter asked. "No, I'm by myself," I said, trying to sound confident - a person who doesn't need others to be complete.

I gave him a look to show I didn't need his approval. I went back to studying the large menu that covered my face. After I made my selection, I gazed up, and I had the glaring realization that everyone in the restaurant felt sorry for me. Perhaps they wondered if I was lonely, an eccentric woman living with 12 cats in a little apartment, an anti-social, maybe a bit psychotic. Soon my thoughts were overtaken by insecurity and worse yet, stress.

I finally escaped to my room. Peace and serenity soothed my over-active mind. It felt so good to be alone, away from the judging, probing eyes. I couldn't help but think of all the couples who were probably stuck in their rooms watching TV, secretly wishing they could be like me, free to do whatever they please.

And as the day rolled into the next, I heard just about every comment: "Don't you have any friends?" "Did you just get a divorce?" "Why are you constantly by yourself?" That from the boy I got a towel from each morning. "Aren't you scared?" And most irritating: the stares and remarks from men who think a single woman walking alone deserves to be harassed. She can't possibly be happy without the companionship of a man.

What is it about being alone that drives everybody else into such a tizzy? Can't they just relax and let me be me? Do I have to explain to the world that I'm alone because I want to be? Next time maybe I should wear a tee-shirt that reads: "It's okay to be single while on vacation. Please keep your comments to yourself." After my experience, I am convinced there needs to be a Public Service campaign put out on network TV -- similar to the non-smoking commercials. It would explain: It's not polite to ask why she's alone. Do you ever ask a couple why they are with the other person? In the advertisement, the woman is content, ordering food, walking on the beach and even grabbing her own luggage. She is dancing, talking to strangers and better yet -- treated as an equal.

Terri Hardesty has been a reporter and writer for several years. For information, call (510) 839-5310.

01/15/03