February 15, 2004 :: Cherry picking

I am such a whore. No, scratch that, I am a flirt, and probably a tease, although I wouldn't own up to it under normal circumstances. A little back-story...

Earlier this week, the fellas and I were having a discussion about how to characterize people who go to the club on Valentine's Day. The consensus (and please note that these are very gross generalizations) was that the women will be there in groups, exuding desperation, bitterness, or some combination of both. We also decided that the men who will be there are just predators with weak game looking to take advantage of the most desperate for some easy nookie. So of course when my platonic friend canceled our impromptu trip to the movies, I decided at the last minute to go out. I realized that it wasn't just Valentine's Day, it was also Saturday, and thus a perfectly normal club night. I was bored, what can I say? Not to mention I had spent all week ducking all the women who had wishful thoughts of me entertaining some of their romantic notions. No one on the active list was going to get the royal treatment this year! So off I went.

I ran into several friends of mine as soon as I got there, which was refreshing. I wasn't the only date-free bum who'd decided to hit the club, and I even saw a woman I know (with her man, more on this later). The fellas were in rare form, and I knew it was going to be an interesting night because they kept buying me drinks, even my female friend. It was what I consider to be a pretty decent crowd in the spot, which wasn't very big. There were enough people around to keep things interesting, yet not so many that it was difficult to navigate. So I wandered around, struck up a conversation with a young lady, moved on, struck up another conversation, moved on, etc.... and by the end of the night, I had 3 phone numbers and had given mine out once. That is, for me, an inordinately busy night. Especially in a club that small where the girl I just met could have seen me talking to the one before her, it was a lot for me.

So to what do I attribute this run of flirtation? For the record, I don't think the stereotypes are true (at least with respect to women). Nobody I talked to was really desperate OR bitter, they were just resigned to not having a special valentine but still determined to have fun. I don't think I have met so many open, accessible, conversational women since I've moved to this cliquish, image-besotted town. It was one of those "perfect storm" nights, where everything just came together: the weather was mild, the club had the right crowd, the drinks were paid for, and women were actually laughing at my humor. I wish I could bottle and sell this stuff.

Will I call them all? I have to call them at least once, just for good form. All of the women I met were desirable in that they were cute and didn't seem particularly chickenheaded. Sometimes you don't see that until later, though. But do I have room in my schedule for three, maybe four more people in my rotation? Highly doubtful. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

One other thing... there were a LOT of couples in attendance. This befuddles me. Why, of all places you could go on Valentine's Day, on a Saturday, would you go to the club? It seems to me that if I was planning a nice romantic evening with a lady friend, it would include as much intimate and secluded time and settings as I could manage. It would at least be a place where we could hold conversations without raising our voices much. The other alternative? Ditching the girl (or girls) and going to the club to catch more, or at least flirt with them. But taking your valentine out to a club? This is bringing water to the aquarium. This is selling snow to Eskimos. This is an unworkable compromise. You lose the romantic atmosphere (and the attendant benefits), and you lose the opportunity to chase tail (also with its attendant benefits). I will admit, I'm revealing my bias here. I didn't like going to the club with my girlfriend when I had one. I told her to go, have fun with her friends, and I'd go have fun with my friends, and I'd see her later. This pissed her off to no end, but I told her, if she wants us to dance together, we can do that at home, and we can do some other things at home too. At any rate, it won't be me.

Stay tuned to see how my juggling sorts out. I'm not very good at it, so I will be dropping some balls.