Attending 100.7’s Valentine’s Day Meet Market? No thank you

I had been hearing the ads for weeks: “Come on down to Tequila Cowboy’s for the annual 100.7 Valentine’s Day Meet Market on February 11 and possibly meet your soulmate.”

I don’t know if that was the actual ad, but you get it. At first, I was intrigued and kind of interested. Why? It kind of reminded me of the Lock and Key event I attended with my friend in the Strip almost five years earlier.

But then I thought about it and said: “Holy shoot, this sounds like that Lock and Key event I attended with my friend in the Strip almost five years earlier.”

In case you don’t know, a Lock and Key event is a singles Happy Hour that is held at Cavo every month or so (I still get the emails). My friend, Kevin, who I met in 2012, had been trying to get me to go to one of these events with him for years.

I finally relented in late-2015 and signed up. I was super nervous, but it turned out to be a lot of fun. This isn’t to say the people seemed well-adjusted–I think Kevin and I were two of the coolest dudes there–but it was just fun getting out and meeting new people–my kind of thing.

Anyway, while it was fun, it was also a little “off.” For example, there was this one woman who was going around and starting conversations with people by saying, “How about this weather we’re having?” When she said it to us, I didn’t think much of it. But then I heard her say it to like seven different groups of people. Did she read that in a book or something? Conversation starters were that hard to come up with? Don’t get me wrong, I understand. As a guy, I do this kind of thing all the time. For example, yesterday at the gym, while waiting in line to get water after spin class, there was a woman I’ve been wanting to strike up a conversation with for quite some time standing right in front of me. Instead of talking to her like a regular old human, I said, “Man, it’s winter but it’s hot!” Not sexy, but at least it was sort of situational.

Anyway, what this lock and key event was was basically men with keys around their necks going up to women with locks around their necks and seeing if the key fit. I did this time and time again, until the key opened Melissa’s lock.

We started talking, and I eventually got her number before her and her friend left. Turned out, her friend met my friend, Kevin, and she gave him her number.

Anyway, I texted Melissa that night and told her it was great meeting her. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear from her, but I didn’t care all that much, as I had a great time at this event, this despite the awkward vibes emanating from everyone (it’s cool to be the coolest person in the room, even if it’s a room full of awkward people).

I got a text from Melissa damn-near a day later. This wasn’t a reply to my text, it was a stand-alone text, one that read, “How’s your evening?” This was a good thing. This meant a date was on the horizon. We sent a few texts back and forth before I suggested we get together again later that week. I had a time and place in mind just in case she did contact me (women love it when you have a plan).

But she kind of threw a curve ball at me. She said, “Kevin and Angela are meeting at such and such a place. Would you like to double with them?” I thought that was a little weird, so I simply said, “Well, if it’s all the same, I’d much rather have a one-on-one first date.”

I mean, this was a dating thing, right? And we were all adults, right? Who has double dates on the first date?  I’ll never know if I could have been talked into a double date, however, because Melissa never, ever texted me again.

I thought the whole thing was strange, and when I told my friend about it, he felt the same way.

Fast-forward to a few years ago, and someone on Facebook had posted a picture of her name-tag in a garbage can after attending one of these Lock and Key events. I said, “Yep, there it is. That’s how those things go.”

My gut tells me that Melissa was there that night, she likely met some guy, and they likely never went out on a date.

She was probably at this Meet Market event the other night, as were many others like her. She’ll likely go to many more events.

And that’s why you don’t meet people that way. How many folks do you run into that say, “Yeah, we met at a singles event”? Think about it, you’re at an event that’s specifically set up for single people to meet one another, yet very few relationships develop out of it.

Basically, going to a singles event to meet someone is like going on The Voice to try and start your music career–the odds are long.

As for Kevin, he just moved to Austin, Texas to be with his current girlfriend, who he casually met at bowling a couple of years ago.

When people meet and fall in love, it’s often organic. It’s rarely forced. And if it’s on or around Valentine’s Day, it damn sure isn’t at a singles event.

 

My most peaceful activity of 2019

Join me as I continue my series of self-centered blog posts about some of the things from 2019 that were important to me in one way or another.

Before I get to my most peaceful activity of 2019, allow me to talk about the runner-up, which was going to Panera on Greentree Road every Friday and ordering a coffee and a very expensive banana.

I don’t know what it is about Panera–particularly the one on Greentree Road–but it has a soothing effect on me. I especially like the music. For example, one time I was sitting in there, drinking my coffee and eating my banana, when Can’t Find My Way Home by the Woodstock Era group Blind Faith came on the satellite radio. When I heard that, I recognized just how peaceful that moment truly was for me. Sadly, over the course of the year, after I became aware of just how pleasurable and peaceful it was to go to Panera on Greentree Road, it became my routine to do this on any Friday that I was free. When that happened, it began to feel like contrived peacetime–“Time to go have some peace”–and that made it seem a little less magical. All-in-all, however, not a bad time to spend a Friday evening, especially for someone like me who enjoys his alone time.

Speaking of alone time, that’s why I enjoy walking so much. It allows me to be alone with my thoughts, and it’s truly a great way to decompress–especially if I’m alone.

They say walking is the best way to lose weight–probably not, but it’s a pretty good way to do it–and after my Uber driving started to lead to some undoing of my 2017-2018 weight-loss success, I searched and searched for something, anything, to help get things back to the way they were. This is when I decided I would walk as much as humanly possible.

In addition to walking with a friend at various tracks around town, I started going to Greentree Park to walk three or four times a week. I began doing this in late July after I realized that my 171 weight had ballooned up to about 188.

I did this every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night that I was free. I walked three, four, sometimes six miles. I enjoyed watching the Indian folks play cricket on one of the baseball diamonds, the Hispanic folks play soccer on another field and everyone play baseball on other diamonds (Greentree Park is really diverse). I walked and thought and thought and thought some more. I remember a specific Friday afternoon in early August, when my car was in the shop and had been there for a few days. All I could think about was money and how, without the use of my vehicle for days and days (it turned out to be six), I would be able to pay my bills. I remember going to the park every Monday after my podcast and watching myself talk as I walked around the track, hoping not to trip, you know with staring at my phone and all.

I remember going to the track Saturday afternoons and walking for like an hour while I waited for my mom to call me to pick her up from the store.

Walking around the track at Greentree Park even led to a little reunion with an aunt that I barely talked to for like two decades (yes, I have one of those families). She lives in Greentree and walks around the track many nights a week.

I remember going to the track two nights after I fell and knocked myself out. Why? I was watching Pitt take on Central Florida, and the stress of that game, along with the anxiety I was feeling about knocking myself out and how that could affect my immediate-future, was too much. Therefore, I simply went to the park and walked and walked until I was certain Pitt had won.

It was such a therapeutic thing, the walking around Greentree Park the remainder of the summer and into the fall. I remember using that time to sort through emotions and feelings, such as my anxiety over how I would be able to drive for Uber in what I figured would be the winter of all winters. Fortunately, that ugly winter has yet to surface (well, kind of right now, since I’m writing this, rather than driving in the snow).

As for the weight-loss part, it actually worked for a bit. I dropped about five pounds over the course of a month or so.

I even combined the walking and Panera part every Friday, when I would sit and eat my coffee and banana before driving a few miles down the road to walk the walk.

Anyway, of the many things I will be looking forward to this spring, summer and fall is resuming my solo walks at Greentree Park.

Why? It was my most peaceful activity of 2019, so why not repeat it in 2020?

A night of nights, that’s what last night was

It’s not often you visit  the “zone.” In fact, to quote Steelers legend Mean Joe Greene, when people talk about being in the zone, they don’t even know what the hell it means (okay, it’s a paraphrase). But his sentiment was quite clear: You may visit the zone once or twice in your life, but you certainly don’t live there.

I think last night, at my every other Friday night bowling league, was one of those rare times I was in a zone.

I’ve been bowling for 11 years, and in all that time, I’ve never once bowled a 200 in back-to-back games. Fair enough, I’m kind of ordinary at the sport. In fact, my average is pretty basic (usually around 150), and if it hasn’t gotten any better after all these years, it likely never will.

Hence, the lack of consecutive 200 games.

Heck, forget about consecutive 200 games, heading into last night, I hadn’t posted a stand-alone 200 game in quite a while.

Game 1 (130) offered no encouragement for that streak ending, and Game 2 didn’t start out any better. You see, even though I suck at bowling compared to those that are really, really good at it, I’m pretty good at flirtatiously dedicating strikes to women that happen to be nearby. This is how I started Game 2. The dedication ended with a gutter ball on my very first throw. I played it off with comedic flair (common for me, since I get strikes in that situation like 19 percent of the time), but I wasn’t all that confident that the game would go well. But wouldn’t you know, I picked up the spare on my following throw, and kept getting strikes and nine-spares the rest of the way.

I ended with a 212.

The third game was a little more workman-like. I wasn’t getting as many strikes as the previous game, but I was still picking up my spares. Having said that, however, I didn’t dare to dream that I  would roll a second-straight 200 (I’ve been hurt before).

But I should have known, because right in the middle of that game, the winning numbers were announced for the weekly (bi-weekly, actually) 50/50 raffle. I never win anything, but for some reason, I just had a feeling, even as the guy started calling off the numbers, that I would win.

Sure enough, I had the winning ticket. And, get this, the winning numbers were 0317. I don’t know if you believe in this kind of thing, but my father who I never met and who died in 2000, was born on St. Patrick’s Day back in 1936–according to the research I did after I discovered his passing in 2004.

Coincidence? I guess that depends on your belief system.

Anyway, I’ve been an Uber driver since last March, so, as you can imagine, money has been a problem. Therefore, it was nice to actually win some for a change.

Back to Game 3. It was a pretty solid effort, and I wasn’t sure if I had a real shot at a 200 heading into the final frame (I don’t know scoring), but I threw a strike on my first attempt. On my second attempt, I picked up eight. Unfortunately, I couldn’t pick up the spare. Before I even saw my final score, I knew it was a good one, but I also assumed it would be short of 200. Surprisingly, it was smack-dab on 200.

I did it. I finally bowled consecutive 200 games. I also won some much-needed money.

To touch on Mean Joe’s sentiment, I may not live in the zone, but I sure did visit it last night.