Single Adults

In two weeks I will be an official college graduate.  I will be scholarly, sophisticated, and very single.  Gone will be the days of college boys.  I will soon venture into the world known as SINGLE ADULTS.  Scarrrrrry.  I’m not sure how to react to this new stage in life.  I’m not sure what to expect.  Will dating bring new and exciting adventures, or will it be dull and depressing with no hope for a future?  I really can’t say until I’ve at least tried it for a year.  So, in a year, I’ll get back to you and tell you how it all went.  Then I can give an educated answer.  I’m hoping for the more positive outcome, of course. 

I have noticed, though, the older I get in the dating world the more…uh…varieties of men I meet.  Single.  Normal.  Not so normal. Divorced.  Widowed. 

“When a man is a widower why do we say he was widowed?  Why don’t we say he was widowered?” NAME THAT MOVIE!

 All varieties are now clambering into my dating range.  I think it’s safe to say that at 25, I can date a man up to the age of 33.  Anything beyond that would be too much for me to handle.  Anything beyond that….there might be some serious reasons why the guy is still singl

e. 

I discovered the inconveniences of dating much older men while still in my late teens.  Not only was there an age difference, there were differences in humor, behavior, and culture.  When I was 18, a 28 year old man grew up with very different cartoons than I did.  Tragic.  We had nothing to talk about with a culture gap that spanned 10 years.  Besides finding drastic differences according to an age gap, I also found that single men outside of college are…interesting.

I first discovered single adults when I returned from my first year at college.  I was 19.  I was invited to a young single adult activity for all adults 18-30 in the surrounding areas of Honolulu, Hawaii.  At the time, my family was living there and I had little experience with dating in the tropic paradise.  You would think immediately that paradise would have sexy, tanned, sensitive men to offer…but the men there are just like any other old Joe’s.  Disappointing, I know.  In my naïve 19 year old mind, I hoped for an island fling for the summer break.  But alas, I quickly discovered I wasn’t going to have such an experience.

When I arrived to the activity, I discovered no dreamboats or suave men.  I found only John and Bob and Harry.  Respectable boys, I’m sure, but certainly not what I was looking for.  I was young, and they were old..er.  The activity included a get to know you activity and a Japanese style dinner complete with cushions.  Wooo!  I found a really squishy cushion and sat myself down, chopsticks in hand.  I became distracted talking to the girl to my right and didn’t notice the pot-faced Hawaiian boy who sat down to my left.  When I turned to look to my left there he was with a pasted smile on his face and squinty eyes.  I was disturbed by his fixed stare and wanted to move, but didn’t want to be rude.  I again turned to my friend on the right and tried as I might to ignore the boy to my left.  I discovered from those talking around me that the boy to my left was…odd…and old.  I certainly didn’t want to give him any chances at asking me out (since that’s what you do at young single adult activities.  They are intended to match you up!).  Finally, food was placed at the table.  I grabbed a tortilla looking thing (but obviously it wasn’t, since, you know, I was eating Japanese food) and began dipping it in the sesame sauce soup stuff right next to my plate.  Right then, old-hawaiian-weird-boy dipped his bread into the bowl, too.  Great.  I had to share my sesame sauce with him.  I dipped mine.  He dipped his.  I dipped mine….you get the picture.  I watched him out of the corner of my eye to make sure that we didn’t ever go for a dip at the same time.  Still, he kept on dipping, and so did I.  I found it odd that we were the only two sharing a bowl.  Everyone else seemed to have their own.  Then it dawned on me.  I looked behind me to find a line of people in the kitchen with a bowl in hand ladling out the sesame soup from a steaming hot pot.  I wasn’t sharing the soup with the boy, I was eating out of HIS bowl!  I was mortified when I realized that I was supposed to go get my own bowl.  While I was talking to my friend, he had gotten up to get his soup when I didn’t notice.  His soup was so close to my plate, I figured it was for me.   But no.  It wasn’t.  When I realized what I had done, I threw a shocked and embarrassed look to the boy who continued staring at me with a frozen smile.  CREEPY!  He knew all along that I was eating out of his bowl, and yet he didn’t say a word because HE LIKED IT!  I was so embarrassed and completely horrified that I was eating out of a stranger’s bowl.  I felt my face flush red and I quickly got up to move as far away as possible.  I could feel his black eyes on the back of my neck and did all that I could the rest of the evening to avoid him.

I suppose eating out of someone else’s bowl isn’t all that bad.  Worse things have happened to me.  But the fact that he knew and that he watched me eat out of his bowl still gives me creepy vibes up my back.  I certainly hope that in the last 7 years, older guys have become more desirable in their behavior and appearance.  Like I said…I’ll be able to tell you my evaluation in a year.

Oh. And to end the night off, the dog ate my shoes.  Yep. ATE MY SHOES.