Single Suroshree walks into a bar!

After a certain point in a single woman’s life, a conversation involving the woman and her mother, only involves two things. 1. Your plans on settling down and 2. Your plans on settling down.  Naturally, you get terribly exhausted of buying time for yourself and you realise that before you can settle the question to settle down , you need someone to settle down with. Since, sitting at home and waiting for prince charming hasn’t brought you much luck, you decide to wear your hunting boots, dress to kill your next prey and set out on a little mission impossible your own.

 But hunting isn’t easy, mostly because you don’t know where to hunt. It is then that I began to wonder just where it was that all the eligible bachelors hang out. I tried spending as much time as possible at hardware stores. That seems like a "male place," and the advice books all said that I must attempt to create “social opportunities.” However, I could only lurk around the nuts, bolts and screws for so long until I began to be suspected of shoplifting.

Finally, I came up with a bright idea. Guys go to bars to meet women. After trying everything else without much success, curiosity won. I took the low road and decided it was time to hit the bars. By now, I had developed some poise in meeting people, not to mention my hardware expertise, and I felt pretty confident that I could handle most situations.

Now some women tell me they have fun going to bars, meet interesting men, and have tons of fun. I wish I could find that bar! Whenever I go into a bar, I seem to magnetically attract the attention of every creep and/or a wannabe songwriter in the joint. I don't know if they have radar or if I have “fresh meat” written all over me.

Before my eyes can even adjust to the dim light, I am approached by an overdressed rapper-wannabe look-alike, complete with his bling. “Wanna dance?”  Well,I came to meet ‘new’ men and unless I actually ‘met’ them, I wouldn’t ever find the perfect guy, right? Besides, why refuse and hurt someone's feelings? So, I agree and we go to the dance floor. All the decent looking sorts in these places are invariably busy with other women. Rapper, it seems, comes here often and knows all the ropes. He glides too smoothly to the music and dances way too close.

After the dance, I excuse myself and hide in the ladies rest room for a while to regain my composure, then decide to venture out and look for a table in a dark corner where Rapper can't find me. Trouble is while I am losing Rapper, there’s a ‘Rockstar’ who spots me and start to move in.

“Can I buy you a drink, babe?”

I'm not a “babe,” but why argue? He wouldn't understand anyhow.

“Well, actually, I've already ordered one.”

Rockstar is unfazed, sits down at my table without an invitation and begins to tell me the story of his life, all about what a lousy bitch his last girlfriend was and he’s so done with all the casual relationships and is looking for a ‘meaningful. Of course, in about five minutes of conversation, it is possible to see why he has been dumped so many times. He's a loser. My interest strays.

The bar is smoky, hot and stifling. The music is too loud, the drinks too strong. Is this what I have to do to meet someone, I wonder? Maybe I'd rather be lonely! But, I've already paid a cover charge, so I stay. I smile, I dance and I listen to all the ‘rockstars’ and all the stories and hear about all the disappointments, the failures, and the lost loves.

After a drink or two, Rapper begins to look a lot more pleasant and maybe it is not such a bad place after all. I think I’m being too particular, too critical. Maybe I could actually date one of these guys – if it were just not for the cologne! The smell of Axe Effect is overwhelming. Does that stuff come in huge tanks?

If I could meet just one decent man with a scent from the men's section of a good department store instead of the special from the local ‘kinara store’, I'd be his!

After a couple of “hunting expeditions” to the bar, the stories and guys all start to blend together like a Nickelback song. I try to sort them into categories that my mind can comprehend: jerks, losers, and assholes. So many ruined lives, so many lost dreams - so many unemployed men!

The men who are half-way decent are usually married - but separated, at least for the night. Eventually, I realise that it's easy to meet someone here; but difficult to meet the type of person I want to meet.

Eventually, I take the back exit and leave. My mother will be so disappointed again. Now on to my next hunting expedition.

Fresh air never smelled so good!