I’ve been thinking. Oh! Sorry about that, I should probably be more specific. I’ve been thinking about a costume idea for the next time I have an opportunity to dress up. And unlike the ideas I mentioned previously while considering what to wear (the female versions of Mr. Kool-Aid, the Pillsbury Dough Boy and the Michelin Man), I’ve come up with a new and much more fitting costume. The Human Repellant! Never heard of it, you say? Well, it’s sort of a super hero and I haven’t yet devised a design, although something with a spiky exterior does seem like a good place to start. Along with that, I have also come up with a relatively clever, hyperbolic description. Every great super hero has one, after all! One that many of you are probably familiar with pertains to Superman, “Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound!” For my purposes, it would read more like, “Guaranteed to extinguish any possibility of a friendship after one lunch date!” or “Don’t linger too long or she’ll literally talk your ear off!”
Ok, Ok. I’m kidding. Sort of. I know it all sounds rather self-deprecating, but I have to wonder. Last week, when my husband suggested I reach out to a friend and schedule a lunch date, I came up blank. “I don’t have any,” I responded. Sad to say, but it’s true. And it’s not due to lack of effort. Believe me, I have tried. My first attempt to ‘find a friend’ began with Meetup, a social media platform. There were several groups I joined, to include the following: Women Over 50 Anti-Isolation Group, SWAGS (Social Women’s Activity Group), Writer’s Club, and some other club (the name eludes me) that involved getting together at a local library and discussing whether a lawsuit would be fitting based on a particular crime that had been committed. I know. Strange but true.
And of all the Meetup events I participated in, there was only one other female who I felt a pretty strong connection with, and that was via the Writer’s Club. She was working on a memoir, was close to my age, and appeared to be a kindred spirit. I had high hopes that I’d finally found my ‘Ride or Die’. The first time we met (at a Meetup event), we exchanged numbers and then readily agreed to meet elsewhere soon thereafter. For our first ‘date’, she suggested we meet at a walking trail near where she lived. Everything seemed to go pretty well. We walked several miles and carried on a conversation for the duration and the afternoon went off without a hitch. However, things did not go well the next time we got together. The second ‘date’ took place at a bakery. Well, it was supposed to, but when we arrived, the bakery staff was preparing to lock the doors and close for the day.
Rather than hop back into our vehicles and try to come up with a different venue for coffee and a pastry, we decided to just walk the neighborhood to see if there were any other suitable places to hang out. Unfortunately, we didn’t come across any places that sold caffeinated beverages or baked goods, but we did eventually spot a little (empty) patio area with a couple of tables and chairs. It was out in front of another business that had already closed for the day. Neither of us could come up with a better alternative, so we decided to each take a seat at one of the tables and make the best of the situation. We immediately launched into a conversation. Oh, hang on. That’s not entirely accurate. What really happened is that she immediately launched into what I can best describe as an interview, whereas she took on the role of investigative journalist.
The line of questioning caught me by surprise. The questions were rapid fire and unrelenting. And as the minutes wore on, things became more and more awkward between us. She didn’t share much about her own personal life but continually hounded me with questions about mine. At one point, she paused the questioning long enough to inform me that she had Rick Springfield tickets available for purchase if I was interested. I wasn’t terribly keen on the idea (which I didn’t say aloud) but I told her I’d definitely consider her offer and asked her to get in touch once she’d decided on a price. She promised to text me that night once she spoke with her husband; however, once our interview session wrapped and we parted ways, I never heard from her again. That one stung, especially when she chose to walk in the opposite direction and around the entire block in order to avoid walking alongside me to reach her vehicle (parked 3 vehicles down from mine). That ordeal really gave me a complex!
On my next attempt at finding a friend, I decided to try my luck at one of the local art galleries. I’d belonged to one in the city where I lived previously and came across a lot of lovely people (men and women) who I became quite close to and ended up spending a considerable amount of time with. Initially, things were fantastic at the gallery. I volunteered several hours a week for nearly 4 months and each time I worked, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Regardless, much like my recent past experiences, eventually the other shoe dropped (so to speak). One evening while at home, I received an email from the gallery that a decision had been made about ongoing practices that were to stop immediately. In other words, anything which involved having fun was eliminated. I tried working one shift after I received the new ‘set of standards’ and decided it was time to move on. Unfortunately, I didn’t make any friends there either.
In spite of failing at my previous attempts, I still felt hopeful. “Why not give the Senior Center a shot?” I pondered. I was convinced that if a friendship was possible, that would be the one place where I wouldn’t strike out. In the early part of January (this year), I set off on my quest. Once I arrived, I entered the building and approached the counter. I was then greeted by a member of the staff who spoke to me at length about all the activities the Center had to offer. They then handed me what appeared to be a magazine. It was the recreational guide, and contained a detailed account of every program available. I thumbed through it and when I came across the listing which pertained to the local drama troupe, I decided to look no further and immediately signed up. I figured since I wasn’t able to make a lasting connection with any of the artists at the gallery, maybe I’d fare better with the theater folks?
Sigh.
It all started out great. I felt an instant connection with several of the other participants, the two standouts being the director and assistant director. For several months straight, we met up for our twice-a-week mandatory meetings where we brainstormed ideas for a play. I assisted with writing the script and also made several of the props. And each week, when we weren’t putting our noses to the grindstone and letting our imaginations run wild alongside the other troupe members, the three of us would regularly meet up for lunch at a nearby restaurant or spend a long afternoon at the director’s house, chatting each other up about everything and anything (family, politics, you-name-it). There was always an abundance of laughter and never any shortage of things to talk about and everyone got along great. We were like the three amigas. But after the season concluded in May, the director and assistant director slowly-but-surely drifted away. I really thought we had something special and was so excited about the strong connections we’d built together, and then just like that, it was over.
So, now what? I have to tell you, I’m really discouraged. It seems like no matter how much I put myself out there, nothing pans out. And I’m feeling exceptionally sad today because yesterday my former ‘Ride or Die’ called me out of the blue and we ended up talking for 3.5 hours. God, I miss her! She was that special someone who I could share everything with, and I mean EVERYTHING, and she never made me feel judged or shamed. We could act like total weirdos and be our true selves around each other and always seemed to know what the other was thinking. She was eternally optimistic and full of cheer and whenever I was feeling particularly blue, she’d always say, “Don’t let the turkeys get you down!” Understandably, things changed once my husband and I sold our home and moved away. It’s difficult to maintain a friendship like that when you no longer live in the same city, let alone the same state.
Alas, I don’t know what the answer is. I may not necessarily have any friends, but I’m grateful beyond measure to have you guys. It always brightens my day and I feel less alone in this world when I hear from you, ChibiChonk, or I see that some of my regulars (DirtySciFiBuddha, DavisBrotherlyLove, Koala Quill, Esoterica) have stopped by. I appreciate you newcomers too! From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for your support. I can’t begin to convey how much it means to me. Truly.
