Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to experience life as a “single person.” Let me tell you, it was AWFUL! OK, it wasn’t that bad, but it was certainly different. Since Tracy is trying to find a friend, she wanted to take part in activities where you might find someone of the opposite sex — going to bars, listening to bands, going dancing, hanging out at at sports bar, and taking a golf lesson from a pro. I went along for most, but I can’t say I was helpful. In fact, I was probably an impediment.
- Dudes in the desert were really polarized: really old, really young, or married. Mostly really old and really young.
- I wasn’t interested in ANY of them.
- I’m not naturally friendly or willing to socialize with strangers. I kept wanting to pull out a book (which I wasn’t carrying).
- I didn’t want to go dancing in a club. In fact, I didn’t want to go to a club.
- I prefer to hang out with my friends — usually girlfriends or gay men. Straight men are buddies. I don’t do nightlife with buddies.
So here’s the “dating” attempts per se, by night/event.
- Friday Night: Went to The Nest without any real knowledge about it. It was advertised as a piano bar. It wasn’t. It was a bar/restaurant for the 50-100 set. They were dancing, grinding, and tonging each other. It was a little cute and mostly scary. The drinks were pricey. The couple near us had a “parrot” that was fake. They were taking pictures with it. Quite odd indeed. People kept asking me about it. I needed dinner so we went to the other side only to be SHOCKED at the VERY expensive dinner prices. We went for soup and salad (our waitress was annoyed). It came in a cauldron. SIGH. While amusing, it was not a good beginning. So we went to…
- The Fisherman’s Market and Grill. There we met Ryan. He was our bartender. My drink was so strong it could have killed a camel. He was quite proud of it! Tracy asked him where we should go hang out. He had NO clue. He was new to California after having moved there from Miami. Yes, the story is that he met a girl on line and moved here to be with her only to “discover” that she was “psycho”. Therefore he was working. Then he wanted to know where we were going next. I looked at Tracy and mouthed “home.” She agreed, but not before confirming that he would be there the next night to meet up. The band was OK. All covers, but a good variety.
- On Saturday we went hiking. Tracy didn’t like our guide, although I did confirm he was single. She thought his hair was stringy and he didn’t appeal to her. I tried by mentioning the hockey game she wanted to watch that night and where one should go. He was as prickly as the cactus telling me he was into things like tennis that a thin man can do. YOW. Personalities-R-Us. Good thing he’s all about happiness.
- After hiking we went shopping. There were men — straight, older ones carrying their wive’s purses, dogs, bags, etc. I did find a FABULOUS Burberry purse. However, at $2895, it was a tad LOT too expensive. Still, it was GORGEOUS. Tracy didn’t get it. While shopping I found lots of things. Tracy didn’t, which only added to the feeling that she was just not getting what she wanted.
- Saturday night found us at the Beer Hunter. Wish I’d seen the Chimay first, before I got a Strongbow. I really like Chimay Ale. George, our bartender, was attentive. However, he and his buddy were serving and not into the chicks in the bar. This is where Tracy met Ryan, the golf pro, and booked us for a lesson the next day. Who teaches golf on Easter? Needless to say it didn’t go further than that. So we ended up at…
- The Fisherman’s Market. Yes, Ryan was there. Had a mediocre meal, listened to the band (who added a really young, and most excellent female guitarist), and chatted with more young ‘uns. One was an RN. Tracy lamented that the cute ones never talked to her. He was a baby toddler. Then some older (Three’s Company Larry) tried to talk to me. By this time I wanted to go! When Ryan asked where the 3 of us were going to meet, I explained I was going HOME. He kept insisting that the 3 of us do something. Uh, hell no. He and Tracy made plans to meet up at some hotel bar I was to take her to. Which means that I was headed to…
- The Marriott. Once we got out of an area that looked nice, I kinda insisted that I wouldn’t leave her there. She agreed and called Ryan at the restaurant to meet up at …
- Someplace else! I dropped her (it seemed OK), went home, and went to bed. Apparently it wasn’t hopping. She had one drink, called Ryan, and came home. I never heard her come in.
- Easter found me taking a golf lesson. I don’t miss that. I don’t have the patience for golf. It reminded me why tennis lessons with my family will be good. Needless to say, Ryan the tennis pro didn’t show interest in Tracy. In fact, at one hour he left us to go back to the clubhouse. SIGH. He did, however, cop to being 26. Hell, I have jewelry older than that! Which, as Robert likes to tell me, means that I have old jewelry!
- From there we headed to Palm Springs. Lots of dudes — too old, too young, and too gay. None wanted us. Some dude in military duds smoking outside a bar did say hello to me. I just passed by. Tracy was like, “Was he trying to talk to you?” Answer: maybe. I wasn’t going to answer though.
- The rest of the weekend was dude-free. No access and no availabilty. Works for me ’cause I wasn’t interested. I do feel for Tracy though, who is.
APPEAL: If you have a single MALE friend from age 32-52, my buddy Tracy is looking to strike out expand her horizons in the romance department. She’s OK with bald, but she’s not a chubby-chaser like me. She also doesn’t adore the Nerdolicious the way I do. She likes dudes who want to do things (hockey games, rock climbing, biking, swimming, and travel). Swarthy is ok. Dirty is not. Tattoos are not taboo. She likes drinking and hanging out. No stringy-haired negative New York Jews need apply. However, good-haired positive New York Jews are quite OK.
Here’s what no single person wants to hear: I would not want to trade places. I love my life and my family. I think this vacation really reinforced that I lead a very blessed life. This is my way of saying: being single sucks! (sorry Tracy!)