A couple of weeks ago, I realized that I have a self diagnosed case of a "1/3 of a life crisis." Even though I have over 6 months to go, during a drunken moment of clarity, I realized that my life is not even close to where I thought it would be. Where I have a great job, financially stable, and no baggage, I always thought by this point in my life I would have someone to share things with, be a home owner, maybe a couple of kids and a dog, you know livin' the dream. Since that moment, I had days where I was depressed, disconnecting myself from my friends, letting stupid things at work get to me, and even almost bought a new car with the hopes of giving myself a false sense of meaning. I was hoping it was just me PMSing, however when it lasted longer than 2 weeks, I knew something was up. Fortunately for me, with the help of friends and Vodka, I was able to snap out of my funk.
You see my love life has dwindled in to next to nothing lately. The only guys that contact me are ones that think I'm going to invite them over to hang out at 1 am. Were I used to be flattered, it has just become a total turn off, considering I know they only want 1 thing. As a test, I always ask these guys if they would much rather do things like go out to dinner on another day, or go out in public for that matter to confirm my suspicions. The minute they laugh me off, or say no or suggest we go "drinking", that is when the attraction gets turned off for me, and any texts after that are just plain annoying and I become the one saying "No, thank you."
One random Friday Night not too long ago (if you are my FB friend then you know exactly when it was), I was sitting at home alone, debating on whether or not to make my way to the casino, alone...to throw my money away in a desperate attempt to make myself feel better. That is when I got a picture text from Maria that changed the course of my Friday night.
For whatever reason, she had sent me a picture of a Plenty of Fish Dance invite that was taking place in Carnegie. Knowing that I had been down in the dumps, she immediately called me and wanted to see if I wanted to go, knowing it would end up turning in to great blog material. Boy was she right.... Looking at the guests that RSVP, the average age range was roughly 50. Knowing what we were getting ourselves in to, we decided to run with it. I put on a cute little party dress, made my way to Maria's and with Maria's boyfriend, Kevin at the ready, we made our way to Carnegie.
As we pulled up to the designated location, we immediately discovered that this "dance" was in a church banquet hall. Finding it interesting, we noticed that that parking lot was full. As Maria, Kevin and I tried to figure out if there were actually a lot of people at this event, or if it was the "Kamakazie's" effect, we made our way to the door.
side note: The Kamakazie's effect is based on a bar in WV that we used to go to growing up. Every time we would go there, the parking lot would be full, yet when we would walk inside there would be 20 people in the bar. This meant that those 20 people would drive themselves to the bar, giving off the illusion to people driving past that the place was busy, when in fact it wasn't.
As we entered the door, we were greeted by an older gentleman with gray hair. Looking around the room, I instantly felt like I was in a real life AARP advertisement. The median age of the 60 people at this dance was roughly 55. As we paid the $8.00 cover, the gray haired gentleman then directed us to a table to sign up for "door prizes." The door prize table consisted of the following: an $8.99 bottle of Yellow tail Wine, a plate of cookies someone baked, a gift card to some unknown place, and an AM/FM digital clock radio. I was all for the clock radio, I mean come on you can never have one too many.
Looking around the room, it was set up like a typical church hall Beaver County wedding. There were round tables that sat 8 people, had table cloths and chips/cookies on them, and did I mention it was in a church banquet hall? All eyes were on us as we searched for a 3 seats, together, preferably at an empty table. Very rarely do I ever get uncomfortable about anything, however this was probably the first time in my life that I felt uncomfortable making heads turn. As I watched the Cougars, Obese Woman and Grandcougars scowl at us, the Gray Haired men, Manther's and real life versions of Glenn Quagmires were licking their lips as if their 4:30 dinner included free Apple Pie.
With 70s music blaring, and most of the geriatric parade out on the dance floor, we found an empty table (or so we thought) that was near the back of the room. We sat down when out of nowhere a 50 something blonde hair women sits down. Looking at us as if we were a threat to her chances of getting laid, she meanly told us that all the seats were taken. We then proceeded to find a table in the very back of the room, sitting with two women, who turned out to be the coolest people ever.
Their names were M and B (names have been shortened for privacy reasons). B had just recently gotten out of a relationship and M was single, but more there for moral support. I would guess they were in their mid to late 50s. Immediately I started asking them questions about POF and how they felt about it. This was a BYOB event, so Maria brought some wine and we began the "getting to know our new friends" process. That's when the excitement started...
Within 20 minutes of being there, the DJ slowed it down, with some great slow songs from the 60s. As we watched the parade make its way to the dance floor, we noticed that there was a lot of slow dancing going on. Being the old man to old woman ratio was about 1 guy for every 4 women, by the first set of slow songs, looking around the room, there were only about 4 guys not dancing. Once the Dj put on some more 70s music, Maria, Kevin and myself made our way to the dance floor.
Kevin had decided not to reveal himself as a paramedic, in case there was a heart attack or a hip breaking incident because it was his first night off in a while, so if anyone asked, he sold insurance...car insurance and that was the story. In order to prevent any turf wars with the cougars, Maria and I decided rather than to shake our asses like strippers, we would dumb ourselves down and do dances like the twist, and the sprinkler. For once, not drawing attention to ourselves was the name of the game. At one point I was convinced the DJ was conspiring against us, because he would play a song like "Staying Alive" and then switch things up to "Ridin' Solo." I've accomplished some things in my life, but no one will ever understand how fucking hard it is to do the twist to a contemporary ass shaking song.
After 5 dance songs, the DJ played more slow ones, convincing myself that I was not at a singles mixer anymore, but I was at a wedding. Our group of 5 decided to reclaim our table and sit out "Ladies Choice." Upon arriving back at our table, our 2 new friends were greeted by a younger guy (who turned out to be 35) but he had the beard of a lumber jack and the body of a semi pro professional eater. He took a liking to M. The proceeded to chat each other up for a good 10 minutes, before we excused ourselves to go outside to cool off from the room that was filled with the stench of old spice and moth balls. M and B joined us shortly after with their new "friend." After he left, M proceeds to tell us about their conversation. This "fellow" POF'er told her in the middle of their conversation that he would love to take her out sometime, but only if he could suck on her toes later...
Trying not to laugh, I revealed the true reason that I was at this event. I told them about this blog and how I enjoy exposing how stupid people can be. They thought it was great, and we proceeded to exchange our stories about messages that we received, dates we had been on, it was at that moment that I felt like I had met the version of my future self in these women. According to them, where the messages that I receive are somewhat vulgar, the messages that they receive are just as bad. They got everything from 70 year olds asking what cup size they were, to 50 year old men asking them to fuck. I instantly felt connected to them.
When we walked back in to the room, to hear yet another set of slow songs playing, Maria and I gazed at the dance floor and almost fell over. There were at least 5-6 couples that were literally making out on the dance floor. Maria coined the sumM of the evening. She turned to me and said, "Geez, this is like an old people fuckfest." Laughing hysterically, and finally an upbeat song being played, the 5 of us made our way back on to the dance floor to "cut another rug."
After playing 2 songs, it was now time for the door prizes to be awarded. As we made our way back to the table, the three of us had a very religious experience. Where I don't attend church hardly ever, and have never really been in to religion, I turned to god praying that I would not win a door prize. Being a dumbass swept up at the allure of actually winning something, instead of using a fake name and email address, I retardedly put my own information on the slip of paper to enter to win. I immediately started praying to god that for once in my life, I don't want to win something. Normally I never win anything to begin with, however I figured that with my dumb luck they would call my name where I would have to walk up on stage in front of everyone, at which they would know my identity. Of course the miserable old lady who kicked us out of the first table, won the bottle of wine. Then 2 other names were called for random prizes. Kevin, Maria and I then engaged in a group prayer session with the hopes that our names wouldn't be called. It was down to the 2nd to last prize when all of a sudden the dj started stuttering at the name that was on the paper.. mman..mmanddd.. We were waiting for it, our heart stopped as we were waiting for him to announce Maria's name. "I can't read this handwriting," the dj said. Then he went from a name that was similar to Maria's last name to something completely different, to which the three of us let out a huge sigh of relief.
I'm not a big wine drinker, never really have been a fan, however I felt the need to consume alot of it in order to loosen up. As we were raising our glasses, dancing and praising Toby Keith's "Red Solo Cup," we were approached by the event host, who yelled at us for drinking on the dance floor. "These are hard wood floors, come on guys," he said with a disappointed tone. "I don't see a sign, nor was there an announcement made that drinks are not allowed on the dance floor," I said to him. "Guys I would just appreciate if you drink at the table, I don't want to ruin this church's floor." he said. "Whatever," I said irritated. Clearly he forgot that we do not know the meaning of hardwood floors because we are not 60 and that is not a priority on our "grown up" list of responsibilities, but who would think one would get yelled at for drinking, wine, of all things in a church. If Jesus finds it acceptable to drink wine in a church, I'm sure he's ok with it spilling on the hardwood floor.
Trying not to let the doushy coordinator get me down, that is when I knew Jesus had my back. Moments later, a visibly drunk older woman (55+) was getting ready to dance with the drunken grandpa of her dreams, when she missed the step to the dance floor and fell flat on her ass. The gentleman helped her up, she shook it off and proceeded to do the "Grease Medley" dance.
After another 5 songs fast, then 2 slow, we made our way outside to cool off yet again when we saw our new 35 year old friend standing outside smoking a cig. We weren't talking to him, he was standing alone, swaying due to the Wild Turkey self induced coma that he had put himself in, when it happened. A 50+ cougar with red hair walked up to him. They literally talked for about 15 seconds before they started making out. I'm guessing the conversation went something like this from the cougars perspective, "Hi. I'm drunk, your young and hot want to make out?" <insert kiss here>. Stunned at what we had just witnessed, we decided to leave them alone and go back in and sit down. With slow songs till playing and Kevin feeling sweet, he decided to ask B to slow dance. Maria and I kept M company as they made their way to the dance floor.
Maria and Kevin were playing it super cool that night, not alluding to the fact they were dating, so you can imagine Maria's shock when M turned to her and said, "B can't go home with your friend tonight because she is my driver." Maria, trying to keep a straight face turns to me to fill me in on what was going on, to which I started laughing uncontrollably.
It was at that point my phone started ringing so I excused myself from the table to go outside to hear. I decided to let it go straight to voicemail when I saw the 35 year old standing outside alone. We had been watching to see what was going on, and he hadn't came back inside since our last trip outside. Again, swaying he looks at me and says, "Oh Shit, my shirt is on inside out." I instantly started interrogating him, because inquiring minds want to know..."Did you go to her car? or yours? Did you get a BJ or did you get laid my friend?" I asked. "I don't kiss and tell," he said. My reply to his pussy answer was, "Well sounds to me like you got more than a BJ if your shirt was on inside out, because the last time I checked a BJ doesn't require removal of a shirt." He drunkenly grinned at me, and without saying the words directly, he set my mind at ease knowing that he did in fact bang a cougar in a car.
Running back to the table to share this experience with everyone, you would of thought that we had just entered a bad 70's soap opera entitled "The Young and the Geriatric". The 35 year old made his way to the side of the dance floor where he instantly turned in to "that guy" that lurks in the corner and just sits and watches a girl he likes dance. To all of our surprise, within the 10 minutes of all of this going on, she had moved on, to another guy closer to her age, that she was started making out with on the dance floor.
It was at this point, that we decided we had seen enough. I had not won the clock radio I had so hoped to win, and said goodbye to our new friends M and B, and made our way to the door. We were walking down the steps of the hall, when we were practically chased down by the event coordinator. Thinking he was going to bring up again the lecture on "Why hardwood floors should be treated with respect," he then proceeds to interrogate us about our experience. I said very few words, being still angry at yelling at me for the wine incident, so Maria and Kevin proceeded to engage in conversation with him. Little did I know, not only was he aged like a fine wine, but he was also a Captain. Captain obvious that is...
He looks at us and says that we were the youngest people there. No shit ya think? And then proceeds to tell us how he doesn't like to promote it to "younger" singles because if he did he would have to pay for security and he wouldn't want things to get out of hand. Being that I am in marketing, It took every bone in my body not to make a comment along the lines of, "Well from what I saw tonight, I think this would be a great event for Viagra to sponsor."
As we left, trying to absorb every what the fuck moment the night had brought to us, on the ride home my mind started wandering...
Really, this event was no different than going to a Jimmy D's or a Bar Room on a Friday night, with the exception that everyone in the room made it know that they were single. I've been that cougar, walking up to random guys making out with them (of course within a 5 year age limit), that drunk girl that falls on her ass, only to bounce back up and capture some drunk guys attention, but more importantly, being "that girl" that knows looking for love in a bar is about as effective as an expired batch of birth control, every time I do go out, in the back of my mind I have hope for that chance encounter of meeting someone that I could share my life with.
With all that, I think the hardest reality to swallow is that where I think dating is bad now in my generation, if this event was a reflection of my future in 30 years, I will be basically doing everything that I do now, except with a new set of hips and possibly knees. Where some of those men and women were clearly looking for a one night stand, there were some people that were genuinely hopeful in finding love that night in a church hall. It takes balls to show up at an event, where you put yourself out there and you're not just a profile but an actual person. I wish them all the best of luck in whatever they are looking for, yet I think I will put my love life in fate and not the internet's hands...
Keepin' it real
-Shelby
