The Dating Experiments – Sitting Solo at a Bar<\/b><\/p>\nAttempt #1<\/h2>\n
I order a beer and, not knowing where else to look, stare straight ahead at the back wall. The bartender, a cute brunette with tattoos on his forearms, glances at the empty seat beside me as he sets my drink down. \u201cWaiting for someone?\u201d he asks.<\/p>\n
I wish. On the advice of a few women\u2019s magazines and one well known \u201clove guru\u201d, I\u2019ve come to this bar solo. It\u2019s supposedly a great way to meet guys. Why? It\u2019s simple, really: booze = instant confidence. An unaccompanied female = less intimidating target \u2013 there\u2019s no one ready to swoop in and save her, no audience of her friends for a possible failed come-on. You put those two together and you\u2019ve got all the makings for a great love connection.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I answer, sliding my payment across the bar. \u201cJust me.\u201d I speak confidently, with a friendly smile, but the truth is I\u2019m ready to leap off my barstool and run to the bathroom \u2013 or my car, whichever is closest.<\/p>\n
\nI feel self-conscious and unsure of myself. I also feel like a social outcast for being alone in an environment that\u2019s all about human connection. Already the bar is filling up with groups of friends and happy couples.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Liz<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\nMost of the time, I have no problem going out alone. I shop, run errands, watch movies, even dine in restaurants solo. In those situations, I feel confident and in control because I have a distinct purpose \u2013 to buy a new pair of jeans, for example, or to see the latest James Bond flick.<\/p>\n
Taking myself out to a bar is proving to be much more difficult. There\u2019s no item to keep me occupied (unless I play with my cocktail napkin) and no task I can hide behind (unless I play the How Long Can I Stare At My Beer Without Blinking game). I feel self-conscious and unsure of myself. I also feel like a social outcast for being alone in an environment that\u2019s all about human connection. Already the bar is filling up with groups of friends and happy couples.<\/p>\n
As if he hadn\u2019t heard me correctly \u2013 or perhaps is expecting me to say, \u201cJust kidding! My friends are on their way\u201d \u2013 the bartender pauses and looks directly into my face. He waits. For a second I hope he\u2019ll hit on me or at least say something reassuring, something like, \u201cThat\u2019s okay. Nothing wrong with that\u201d or \u201cCool. Have a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n
Instead, when it becomes clear that I have nothing more to say, he gives me the look I\u2019ve been dreading: pity. He picks up my money, and with the sort of overly sweet voice the characters of Sesame Street or Barney use when talking to kids who don\u2019t have friends (or have lost a pet or are facing some other pathetically sad situation), he says, \u201cI\u2019ll be right back with your change.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\n\nMy eyeballs are just starting to burn when I become aware that the small group of girls standing nearby is talking about me.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Liz<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\nDon\u2019t look at me that way! I want to yell after him. I have friends! Really, I do!<\/p>\n
As if to prove my point, my friend Rob calls while the bartender is still away. \u201cJust wanted to say hi,\u201d he says. \u201cI\u2019m pretty bored. I\u2019m at the video store right now and \u2013 crap, I can\u2019t find my wallet. I\u2019ve got to let you go, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
Briefly, I wonder how pathetic it would be if I ask him to stay on the line. \u201cSee, there\u2019s this bartender who doesn\u2019t think I have any friends,\u201d I could explain. \u201cCould you please talk to me until he comes back so that he\u2019ll stop thinking I\u2019m a pathetic loser? I\u2019ll pretend you said something funny, and when he sees me laughing he\u2019ll have to assume this isn\u2019t a business call or a conversation with my mother because I never laugh during those.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said I have to go,\u201d Rob repeats. \u201cLiz, are you there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? Yeah. Sure,\u201d I say. We hang up just as the bartender returns.<\/p>\n
As he hands over my receipt, I avoid making eye contact by glancing down at my beer glass. It\u2019s supposed to be a brief look, but pretty soon I am staring at it full on. My eyeballs are just starting to burn when I become aware that the small group of girls standing nearby is talking about me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to sit down,\u201d one whines.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake that seat,\u201d her friend tells her, pointing to the empty barstool beside me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d the first one says. \u201cThat girl\u2019s probably saving it.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a moment, I am pleased: someone thinks I have company!<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, it\u2019s not,\u201d her friend announces in loud voice. \u201cSHE\u2019S ALONE. Didn\u2019t you hear her say that earlier?\u201d<\/p>\n
The girls in her group, plus a few others, turn to look at me.<\/p>\n
Game over. I take one last chug of beer, stand, and slink out of the bar in shame.<\/p>\n
Liz is a southern California-based writer of East Asian ancestry. She loves travel, politics, and incredibly unhealthy desserts. When not front of her computer, she can usually be found chatting someone’s ear off. Get ready for Liz to share her dating experiments.<\/i> <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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