Last night I went to a Meetup of my Baby Boomer group. It was just right up the road at a bar/grill that I've been to many times with DM and even prior to him. At these Meetups there are a few people who I know as regulars now. One man, I'll call him, "Es" who I found out through listening later, is actually two years younger than me. Maybe in another circumstance, Es would have made a better impression on me, but last night was a moderate FAIL, I'm afraid. Es comes across as being open and friendly, walking over to my table of two other men and two other women. He shakes hands with the men then introduces himself to me with a handshake. As Es pulls his hand away, he knocks over my wineglass and wine shoots in a direct four foot long flume over the table and onto the man sitting diagonally across from me. Many hands with napkins are quickly thrust into the melee to mop up the mess. I sit calmly looking at the few drops left in my glass, and thinking, "Bummer for me." Es was helping clean up the table and the man who got the brunt of vino on him is standing up looking at the stains on his blue jeans and black polo shirt. "So glad I wore dark colors tonight!" he exclaimed. Es was wearing a solid white shirt which showed no wine spots at all. Not that anyone would have noticed because we were all staring at the skin protruding from the unbuttoned shirt just above the waistband of Es' pants. I thought surely someone would know Es well enough to say, "Hey buddy, your hairy gut is sticking out of your shirt. You really need to corral that stuff or suck it in so you can button the shirt." Nope. No one over the next 30 minutes said a word to Es. Finally he sat down and the skin was out of sight under the table. Conversation resumed and a new glass of wine was delivered to me- this time in a plastic cup. I poured it into my proper wine stem.
Es seemed to have a propensity for talking to a woman sitting next to me. He never let any of the three of us on my end of the table get a word in edgewise. So be it. And since I was not put on Spare Tire Spotting duty, I just watched Es be as animated as he wished while he stood up, walked around and did his meet 'n greet. I had a nice conversation with the two men I sat with, one a widow of 10 years looked like Wilford Brimley and the other wearing my wine stains, was a guy who was pissing and moaning about the end of his 44 year marriage to his 64 year old wife who had found a new boyfriend. I thought, "Oh man, you don't know how good you've got it. She actually wants a new life without you. Let her GO!" Now, this vino man seemed ok, but he is still in the throes of divorce with all the usual tirades about HER and LAWYERS and time and court dates and paper signings, blah blah blah. Brimley and I sat and listened half heartedly but with no real empathy. Our spouses don't even get to be complained about anymore because they are just plain gone.
Please understand that I am not against men going through divorces, but I will NEVER get myself in the middle of a divorcing couple again. NEVER. Let the guy get through his divorce without ME anywhere in sight. Then when/if the man were to come around, I would assess my risks in getting to know him better. I will never again be burned, hosed, lied to or subjected to the abuse I endured at the hands of DM and Ex.
Its funny to observe the people at these Meetups in the way that they move in and out of conversations with others. Some of the same topics come up over and over. The reason for attending any Meetup is answered by some insincere members. "I'm just here to meet new friends!" gayly sayeth the 61 year old woman. Yeah, right. So, like me, that's why you seek out and sit only with men rather than women, huh?
The woman next to me asked Es how long he had been doing Meetups. "Five years" Es muffs out through the mouthful of sweet potato fries in his craw. "What!? You've been at this for FIVE YEARS?!" the woman asks incredulously. Es nods like, 'What's the big deal?' Obviously the woman is NOT interested in hanging around at Meetups for the next five years to find a man. So of course the next topic was segued into: Online Dating.
My eyes glazed over as the observations and opinions fly in the banter. Apparently I am the only person at the table who has not paid to meet people online. It seems like so much work. So much rejection. So much broken hope. I don't ever want to endure that but...
I ended my evening after a conversation with my male table mates about the misadventures I've had with men in the last 4 months. They were astounded that their fellow gender mates would DO such things and say such things! Well, believe it. Your gender is not known for its steller treatment of women over the ages.
The live band had been playing for 40 minutes when I got up to leave, feeling very very tired from my late night before with *M*. More than that, I felt weary of trying. That's it. I'm already sick of trying.
The people at Meetups can be fun, but sometimes the collective loneliness is palpable. AND there are so many others who sit at home night after night blowing on their Banquet Pot Pies in front of the TV. But not me. Tonight I sit in front of the computer putting my short term memories into this blog. The TV is silent, but the music is playing loudly in the living room.The Who, Led Zeppelin, Coldplay, 311, Beatles, Metallica, Moody Blues, Fleetwood Mac, Don McClean, Rolling Stones- its nice to meet you again...
No comments:
Post a Comment