I Tried It: Dining With Strangers — And the Joy That Came With It

Mission Taqueria’s first Free Association, a dinner for strangers, was held on November 20th. Our wellness editor, Laura Brzyski, was in attendance. / Photography by Daniel McLaughlin

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On a random Thursday night, I headed to Mission Taqueria, the lively Mexican restaurant that’s been serving up tacos, margs, and good vibes for nearly 10 years. I wasn’t meeting up with friends or co-workers, though. I was intentionally and willingly going to dinner with a group of people I had never met, solo.

When Mission owner Daniel McLaughlin announced last month on social media he was going to host a free dinner event for strangers, I was intrigued. He was calling it Free Association, after “the psychological term for giving yourself a space for unfiltered expression,” he explained in the video. The only stipulations? You had to come alone, you couldn’t use your phone; and if you got cold feet, you owed $50.

“The whole point of this social experiment is to meet new people, perhaps strike up a conversation with a stranger and see where that might lead … and to break out of the habit of dining out with our faces in our screens,” McLaughlin said. The reason for the cancellation fee? “To overcome participation risk, or the general social anxiety around participating in anything that’s new or unfamiliar.”

Since becoming a mom 18 months ago, I’ve felt pretty disconnected from my pre-kid social self. I used to be fun! I used to go out! Now, I’m tired, my social battery feels like it’s running on 10 percent, and my bed entices me like a siren song around 9 p.m. every night. It’s why I’ve been trying to chase the stuff that not only gets me out of the house, but makes me feel alive outside of my role as a mom — like joining a neighborhood book club, taking up piano again after 20 years, and having monthly date nights with my husband.

I’ve also seen my friendships evolve the past few years — from forging new ones (especially with other first-time moms) to grieving others I thought would last a lifetime. In my current season of life, I want to meet and be around people who make the world (or Philadelphia, at least) more interesting and fun — folks who help cultivate joy and lower stress levels. I want more core-rocking conversations and less networking, more Tell me about your dreams and less What do you do for work? And often, finding those people takes effort and the courage to put yourself out there.

My desire isn’t unique. Five years since pandemic-fueled lockdowns and isolation, people are craving social connection IRL. Loneliness is currently a public health crisis, deemed an epidemic in 2023 by former U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy. One in three Americans report they feel lonely, or, per the CDC’s definition, “feeling like you do not have meaningful or close relationships or a sense of belonging.” Regardless of factors — technology, families not spending enough time together, work demands, and general exhaustion have all been cited as possible ones — the associated health risks of loneliness are akin to smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day. That’s right: Loneliness is a serious threat to longevity and overall wellbeing.

People today (me included!) are hungry for connection that’s genuine and supportive, and that exists outside the digital realm. It could literally save our lives. We’re searching for it anywhere we can: run clubs, crafting groups, pick-up sports leagues, platonic love gatherings, and dinner parties. That last one has especially picked up in Philly, as apps and grassroots supper clubs — think: The Philly Dinner Club and Philly Gals and Pals Dinner — bring folks from around the region to the same table. It’s likely why the idea of Free Association resonated with so many people when McLaughlin announced it. Nearly 1,000 people entered the lottery to win a coveted seat at the table.

And in a rare moment, luck was on my side. I won.

Photograph by Laura Brzyski

I was the fifth person to arrive, and those who came before me were already chatting away, as if they had known each other for years.

Others filtered in and the table eventually filled. Everyone genuinely seemed to want to get to know every person at the table, and the ease and fluidity of the group were palpable. If anyone was nervous, I couldn’t feel it. (And I’m a Cancer, I feel everything!)

Breaking bread with strangers, I quickly realized, means everyone can show up as whoever they want to without the pressure of upholding an established reputation. With family, friends, and work colleagues, we wear different masks, letting our guard up or down depending on who we’re around. That’s not the case with people you don’t know: You can be yourself, or the version of yourself you’re striving to step into, without expectations. How freeing.

I struck up a conversation with Jeff, seated to my left and who lives in Point Breeze. We talked about higher education — we both have a history of working at universities — and discovered we both grew up in Northeast Philly, about 10 minutes from one another. Across the table was Remy, a literature teacher who had recently come back home to Wayne after living in Brooklyn for the past decade; and Tobey, a fashionista who admitted she almost didn’t show up, but ultimately “did it for the plot.”

The talking continued and grew, so much so that McLaughlin, who was facilitating the event, had to politely pause our chatter to start the timer — he was using an hourglass for the duration of the “no phone” policy — and give a toast. He had us go around and introduce ourselves (even though we already knew each others’ names) with one fun fact about ourselves. We learned we had a professional saxophonist, a former competitive ice skater, a tap dancer, and a world traveler among us, which led to some pretty riveting stories.

An ordinary question often led to deeper conversation — like when someone asked what everyone’s favorite movie was and one of the attendees, Todd, said Sans Soleil. He explained how the film leans into the concept of “things that quicken the heart,” originally created by Japanese writer Sei Shōnagon. A few of us got to talking about what’s on our own lists of things that invigorate us: one-on-one conversations that leave you feeling changed, hearing your child belly-laugh, and watching the sunrise with your beloved.

During dinner, McLaughlin had us participate in a surrealist art activity called Exquisite Corpse, where each person draws a section of a body without seeing the other two-thirds of the picture. It was a fun way to not only create something together, but learn more about each others’ personalities and capacity for imagination. (McLaughlin later told me he had a bunch of ice breakers planned, but he didn’t even need to use them. “I literally had to interrupt because everyone had already broken off into deep conversation 10 minutes in!” he recalls.)

After we were finished eating (the meal included chips with guac and various salsas, two drinks, and an order of tacos), we all swapped seats so we could talk to people seated a bit farther away. Nothing changed — the banter still bantered, the vibes still vibed.

Nobody even noticed — or cared — that the hourglass had already run out of sand, signaling that the phone ban was lifted. I had expected people to grab their devices immediately, instinctively, but many of us went on as we were, resuming our conversations. (I was in a deep one with Todd and Na’im, who’s originally from Baltimore but has been living in Philly for the past seven years, about why Philadelphians might just be the most genuine people in the world.) Those who did take out their phones only did so to let their emergency contact know they were still alive, and to follow us all on social media.

As I put on my coat to head home at 10 p.m., the remaining attendees migrated to the bar to keep the party going. Just stay! they urged me, and my pre-kid self would have. But alas, sleep is not overrated and I needed to get home.

Be Well editor Laura Brzyski with Mission Taqueria owner Daniel McLaughlin

Will our group hang out again like we said we would? Maybe, maybe not. But for one night, 12 strangers showed up as themselves — no pretentiousness, no trying too hard — and delighted in good food and meaningful conversation. We got to interact with people we might have otherwise never met, talk about what quickens our hearts (my chat with Fairmount resident Donald about our moms and maternal grandmothers will stay with me for a long time), and even exchanged numbers when we remembered our phones had been tucked into our pockets, untouched, for hours.

As they resumed their merriment and I headed toward the exit, I lingered for a moment and smiled, knowing that we all felt a little bit more connected — to ourselves, our neighbors, our city — and a little less lonely, if only for one night.

Want in on the next one? Mission Taqueria’s second Free Association dinner will be held on December 9th. To win a seat at the table, enter the lottery on their Instagram or TikTok.