I've Always Been Too Old For This Shit

I ventured out tonight, the night of all holy and horrid nights for those of us who are unattached. As NPR coined it "National Singles Awareness Day" a.k.a Valentines Day. I figured what the hell, I'll go out with a few other co-workers who happen to be unattached. So we did. We signed up for a singles mixer and paid our (ridiculous) fee to attend tonight's event at a nice Seattle bar/restaurant. Now, don't get me wrong, these types of events are fine, may even lead to something. However, tonight? Not so much. Tonight four beautiful women walked in and soon realized that we were knee deep in desperate. And not the fun, funky, hip desperate of your twenties, where you could at least count on getting asked out/made out/got laid at the end of the night. Oh no, this was the horrible, jaw dropping, almost (but not quite) humorous desperate of the thirty to forty somethings. The kind where you wonder what the hell you are doing in this room, with all these people, with a half-assed DJ playing semi-decent hits from the 80s, and then want to kick-yourself-for-actually-paying-money-to-attend kind of desperate.

I was talking to a woman who seemed to be in her early forties, and she said she was considering moving because while she had met many very fine women here in Seattle, the men had little to be desired. And, while I am sure this was not exactly a great cross-section of men to base an opinion on, being that it was Valentine's Day for god's sake, still I had to wonder if she didn't have a point. For example: One of the gals bought the first round when we arrived. I then asked everyone if they needed a second round, in front a guy who had been chatting us up for the past 10 minutes. Said guy, turned to my friend after I walked away to place the order and said "Oh, I guess I should have gone to get you all drinks." Um, hello? Yes. You are the man. Pay for the drinks for the women you are trying to chat up. I know, it's not cheap, and maybe you aren't sure if you want to invest in drinks for 2-3 women at once, but for fucks sake, be the man, grow some balls, and at least OFFER to buy them. Or place the order. Or make some sort of gesture that verifies that you produce testosterone. If you see a woman that you have been talking to that is holding a nearly empty glass, realize that perhaps she could use a fresh libation. Think about it. The very least is you waste $8-$10, the most is you liquor her up enough that she may actually want to continue talking to you. Or, *Gasp*, she may even think you are a gentleman and say yes if you ask her out. But when you watch her friend walk away to the bar to get a drink, and you do nothing, then don't be surprised when we move on. I'm sure there is some anthropoligical explanation somewhere about it, but women (and when I say 'women' I mean 'me') want you to take the damn lead and pretend you know more than the 21 year old bartender that I am now ordering my drinks from behind the bar. For Fuck's sake.

Happy National Singles Awareness Day.