Everyone has a story. . . Mine just happens to be a little odder and hopefully funnier.

So I should start by explaining. . .Despite the title of my blog. . .I am not unhappy of about being single nor so cynical that I wander around muttering "I hate men." In fact the opposite is probably more true. I actually like men. . .I can't say I fully understand them and sometimes the things they do and say baffle me. I know that it is usually men who complain about utterly baffling behavior of the opposite sex, but I am here to declare to the world that this particular street runs both ways.

This blog is supposed to serve as a chronicle of sorts. . .Let's call it a sociological journal of the truly odd behavior that single people (including me) engage in an attempt to be not single either temporarily or permanently.

In search of Mr. Right (Now)

Last week. . .in search of "mister right now," me and one of my roommates journeyed out to a club. Since we live in a college town and are both over the age of 22, we hit a bar that is known to have a mix of slightly older to very old single people in an attempt to avoid being hit on by 19 year olds drinking on fake ID's. Frequently clubs like this means that you must inevitably put up with being hit on by some men who have: (1) the ability to remember things from before even your parents were alive (2) lost count of the number of times they have been married/divorced (3) social skills akin to the 40 year-old virgin (4) become bitter due to some ex-wife/girlfriend/crush screwing up their life, or (5) declared independence from any relationship and only want to "have a good time." These are strange creatures. . .and while they don't represent the entire population of men on the single club circuit unfortunately do represent a large number of the people I have met over the last year.

I (despite an overwhelming amount of evidence to the contrary) still have faith that somewhere in the world there are as of yet undiscovered pockets of "nice" and "normal" guys who are just waiting for the right woman to come along. It is the quest for this type of bachelor that sends single girls such as myself out with our friends weeks after week.

We had been in the club for a little less than half an hour when we encountered another dangerous situation know to single women everywhere, the ex-boyfriend. Don't get me wrong many of my ex's are great guys, but except for certain rare cases there is always a certain amount of awkwardness that goes with greeting them and being in a club seems to intensify the uncomfortable nature of these exchanges. So I did what any brave soul in this situation would do . . . I avoided him for as long as possible.

The evening continued on fairly uneventfully for a while. . .until the usual cast of strange and unusual characters began to present themselves. The first "character", we will call drunk guy #1. He having consumed enough "liquid courage" this guy or a reasonable substitute will always approach swaying a little. This particular guy engaged the more and more common pick-up line as of late of hey "you look like. . .insert actress of whom he has a rich fantasy life with here." In this case, it was "that actress from Million Dollar Baby." While I fully respect Hillary Swank's athletic body and ability to kick many people's asses, I (no offense) hope I don't resemble her. I trying to act clueless in the hope he will get discouraged and go away reply "Who?" Drunk Man #1 says to this, "I don't know her name but she is hot." Well. . .I can say this is one of the scarriest pick up lines I have encountered in months for several reasons: 1)I have just been compaired to Hillary Swank, 2) the amount of alcohol being breathed on me at this moment was enough to strip paint or at least make my very straight hair frizzy.

Now, if I had good sense these two bad signs would have had me packing it in for the evening and snuggling up with a good book on the coach, but both bravely and foolishly my roomie and I pressed on. The next round of bachelors bore a resemblance to escapies from the movie "Deliverance." Two of these said bachelors has accents so thick you could repair damaged space shuttle tiles with them and conversing with them felt a bit like trying really hard to understand people who have English as a second language. The next interesint character to strike up conversation with me bore a strong resemblence to Willie Nelson (yes that old) and was certain my name was Stephanie which by the way it isn't.

Strike three for the evening came when trying to flee the disaster of mixing me with people with thick southern accents (In general, I find these accents cute and even pleasant to listen to. . .but as a serious type A personality I just find our world outlooks and personalities don't usually mesh). I ran quite litterally into said ex mentioned above who was also clearly drunk. He was carrying not one, not two, but three beers. He claimed not to have seen me earlier which I find hard to believe because despite only being 5' 3" I saw him and his 6' 6" frame I would imagine gives him a much better view. He chatted me up for what seemed like hours. . .please let it end. Eventually, explaining that he would call me. Great just the reason I left the house this evening to meet someone I already established I don't like. . .

***Tip to any and all single men who have dared to read this far. . .If you know you have had too much to drink, don't talk to women unless they too appear to have had too much to drink. Otherwise you risk the following: 1)being laughed at in the face and rejected, 2)being rejected and laughed at behind your back. Everyone has a little too much to drink sometimes but in these cases it is best to either go home or stick close to your friends who like you drunk or sober.