I get it. You're a tough crowd, and I still have to prove my bona fides before you'll entrust me with answering your questions. Fine. You asked for it. I'm going to go ahead and give you my best stuff. Are you ready?

Here is my answer to the $64,000 question: How do I know if he/she is "the one," or "a one" anyway, or the one I decide to make the one? Whatever.

1. Do I feel lucky/fortunate/ blessed? Those I know in healthy and strong relationships tend to use one of the words above when describing their union. And this is not to say they don't think they are worthy - that's a separate issue - they are just tickled with their good fortune.

2. Can I and my significant other resolve our conflicts respectfully? We're all different. We're going to have differences. Sorry, I don't mean to insult your intelligence with truisms. But how you resolve your differences is key. Do you really resolve them, getting past issues with a newfound level of intimacy? Or do you avoid confrontation, fearing angering your partner or risking a conflagration? If you are acknowledging each other and respecting each other amid conflict, you're very lucky/fortunate/blessed. If not, this is a major red flag. Move on.

That said, I will now devote the rest of column No. 2 to a very basic issue that affects us singletons deeply: eating. Without a built-in buddy, we will often find ourselves eating alone. And unless I'm way off here, we're generally not cooking. I sure as heck am not cooking.

Thus, we have the conundrum of dining solo when meals, by Western tradition, are social events. If we lived in Korea, where I understand people dine quietly without interruption, this would not be a problem.

Now, I happen to love dining solo. And until about a year ago, I lived in Manhattan for several years, where singles, and consequently dining solo, are a common sight. It is totally normal. No one repeatedly checking to see if someone is joining you, which is nice because I like privacy. I don't even like giving my name to the coffee barista. So this may be my biggest gripe about Atlanta. If you eat out by yourself here, you're a leper or a terrorist. So help you, you better have a newspaper to hide behind, or else you might get reported to Homeland Security.

So I've struggled to find a charming place to enjoy dining solo. In fact, as I write this, I've just finished dinner - veggie lasagna and a curry dish I should have skipped - at Whole Foods, one of the lone places it's normal to eat alone. Here are some others.

1. Most breakfast places but definitely not at brunch. You will be eyed like a total weirdo among the throngs of post-coital couples, extended families, children who pity you and the like.

2. Rule out most ethnic restaurants - Indian, Chinese, Mexican. They're usually destinations for huge groups. You'll stick out like a solo diner, and even the waitstaff will be weirded out. Except for Japanese. Grab a seat at a sushi bar and you're in business. You might even meet someone without seeming like you're trying to (as you would at, say, the bar at Houston's or any hotel, where you should watch out for otherwise "spoken for business travelers on the prowl).