The following was written in 2013 and because lately, I just can’t drag new words out of myself night after night, here it is again.
~ ~
During one of my final days of living in Tennessee I was
talking to a coworker (yes, whining) about how lonely I had been for much of my
time in Clarksville, and especially the final year. There were hundreds of
acquaintances I would see as I ambled alone through the monthly Art Walk, but
when it came down to it, there were very few people whose phone numbers resided
in my cell phone and upon whom I could call to meet out for lunch. And of the
few, most were married with kids and otherwise occupied, so it felt like I had nobody available to
entertain me. I even attended two concerts alone due to a lack of companions
and I didn’t die of humiliation, which is good to know for future reference.
My coworker said a lot of single people he knew used the
online Meetup site to find groups and activities. Well, crap -- if I’d known
about that earlier, my last year in hell might have been more tolerable!
As part of my return to New England, I began pre-scouting
for jobs and a social life. I looked into Meetup, checked off a bunch of
preferences and quickly found a book club. Once you join a group, the system
suggests other groups in your geography based on the interests chosen, so it
wasn’t too long before I found a second book club.
During one week in April I had two book club meetings, which
involved plowing through two novels. The first group’s meeting had great
promise -- it was on a Wednesday night in an Irish Pub Restaurant and the
author was going to attend. I had my first Scotch Egg, a dark beer, and the
good fortune of sitting next to the author so I could actually hear the
discussion over the din of the nearby diners, but the later arrivals at the far
ends of the table were not as lucky. This book club was mostly couples and
mostly in their 60s or older so I felt like a conspicuous misfit singleton (a
common scenario for me). On the bright side, I was one of the younger people
assembled at the table.
 |
| Actual photo of most of my social life, 2013-2022. |
Around early June, a new local Meetup group formed -- people
aged 40-60 seeking to get out of the house and meet up at various places and
events. It sounded promising to me -- while not a singles group, it might be a
way to meet new people including some single guys.
The group scheduled its first meet up at a bar/restaurant on
a Friday evening with the instructions to meet “at the chalkboard.” I managed
to convince a gal pal to come with me to scope it out. We arrived early and
parked ourselves at the corner of the bar to scope out the group and decide if
we would actually join them, because we were nervous about meeting a large
group of new people. Heck, I sometimes get nervous with people I already know.
As we sat at the corner of the bar, eyeballing everyone who entered the
restaurant, we finally noticed a guy sitting under the massive chalkboard. Then
a woman arrived. And another woman. And more women. The assembled group of
about a dozen was finally seated at a cluster of tall tables in a corner of the
bar. It looked like one guy with a harem.
We decided we didn’t really want to be part of the estrogen
festival and headed to a Chinese restaurant for a pu-pu platter, chalking up a
loss on the meet up thing. At least we were out of our respective dwellings for
a little while, escaping an oppressive heat wave and enjoying some air
conditioning.
As the summer progressed, the Meetup group posted several
more events at free festivals and local fairs (which I did not attend). One
planned meet up that caught my eye was for a tour of the local craft brewery.
This was right up my alley -- beer! -- plus the potential to meet a man who
appreciates good beer instead of the crappy yellow fizzy water bottled by too
many large breweries.
I tried to wrangle a gal pal into coming to the brewery with
me, but one was in Michigan, and another was in Vermont. So, on the appointed
day, I managed to not wimp out, screwed up my courage and headed to the meet
up. Alone. The RSVP list, which had peaked at about five people a week earlier,
had dwindled to three by the day of the event -- me, another woman, and a guy.
At the brewery, I headed to the “Tour Waiting Area” where I
was the only female. Instead of being thrilled at the prospect, I was too
self-conscious to speak. I visited the sample window for a tiny beer glass and
a taste of Strawberry White beer from the woman who would soon be our tour
guide. Luckily, two more women arrived (with their significant man people) and
finally, a tall guy entered and asked me if I was with the meet up. Hmmm.... I
wonder if it was my obvious aloneness in the room that gave me away. At least I
had now someone to chat with. And he didn’t look nearly as much like an axe
murderer as his little photo on Meetup. I noticed he did not get a free beer
sample. Nobody who looked like the third Meetup RSVP arrived.
The tour began and we passed around jars of various types of
barley, looked at photos from 1994 when the brewery operated out of a barn, and
then moved over to the door to see more historic photos. Before heading to the
bottling area, the guide instructed us to take a pair of safety goggles. As she
was discussing the various sizes (child/small, medium, large), she pointed to
me and said, all chipper and nonchalant, “You can probably use the child size.”
Thanks for the shout out lady. I appreciate you calling attention to my tiny
pinhead.
We moved into the production area, where there was another
tasting sample. I tried the Nut Brown, even though I already knew I liked it.
And that’s when my Meetup buddy casually mentioned that he doesn’t drink. So
much for my fantasy of comparing notes over the various beers and how this
brewer’s product compares to that of other breweries. Seriously? Leave it to me
to meet the one guy on a brewery tour who doesn’t even drink beer.
~ ~
And in the nine years since it was written, not much has changed. Ok, maybe a few things have. Emails arrive from Meetup about events, but I don’t sign up for any because I can’t remember my password for the site. The job search was successful – first Kohl’s and then the Bank, but I gave up looking for new friends. It was too hard, and it seems I’m probably just not friend material and better suited to acquaintance level non-relationships. I recently found a local book club, and yes, I still drink beer. No, I haven’t been on any more brewery tours.
No comments:
Post a Comment