In my time as a journalist I have had the odd scary moment: covering the Bradford riots, stopping a man whose boat had sunk in a lock from trying to throw me in it, that kind of thing.

And of course, there were the times when grief-stricken relatives would attempt to throw you into hedges after downing several cans of Stella Artois when you turned up at their door asking for “a bit of a tribute and a photograph” following their loved one’s death in horrific circumstances.

I have never minded those kind of assignments and, truth be told, rather relished them. A chance to be a ‘proper’ journalist rather than just sitting behind a desk regurgitating press releases.

What always really froze my blood were the times the editor’s eye would hover over you and decide you were just the right person to learn the basics of line dancing – in Barnsley of all places – or a crash course in Urdu in Bradford. Right. Of course, written in the right way, all these things could make for extremely entertaining copy. For example, the novelist Evelyn Waugh used for a time to work as a hack on the Daily Mail and he prided himself on accepting assignments for which he had no gift whatsoever.

But there is one assignment I was always extra careful to avoid and that was the feature describing the embarrassment of dining alone.

But even this taboo it seems is not what it was. The Daily Telegraph reported this week that: “Dutch restaurant, Eenmaal, the world’s first eatery that only has tables for one, is considering expanding to the UK following a successful two-day pop-up event in London.”

I don’t mind drinking in the pub on my own but the whole point of dining to me is in the sharing, the clink of glasses and amusing chit chat. But in almost 50 years I can only recall a handful of times when I have dined alone.

As the Telegraph said you might as well wear a sign round your neck that said: ‘loser’.

Give me a pile of press releases any day rather than a feature on dinner for one!