CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND my experiences in Singles Bars

As I have noted before, I have been married twice. When most people are meeting their mates in college, I was in a serious relationship which broke up during my junior year. That left me screwed.

Or it's just another rationalization for not being a Venus-Fly-Trap for men.

I hated to go to Single's Bars, Dances, or any function that was designed to meet other single people. 

I remember thinking it was just like a meat market and I didn't like the feeling of being inspected. 
What I didn't say or think, was the denial of my feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem.  Some of which had been programmed by my first love. The rest, well you know, you had them too. Parents.

Looking back I can say that I didn't see myself as Grade A meat. More like something with maggots and if you got too close you'd see them. (I read to many novels that have dead bodies in them. Maggots?)

Therefore, I didn't go often and it wasn't fun. If I had been having fun, I probably would have met some normal people. As it was, I met people who were attracted to Maggots.

THE BAR AND DANCE SCENE IN THE 1980'S

I remember one time. It was at a very nice place on Long Island. While standing by the bar a guy started talking to me and my girlfriend. He introduced himself as Sharone. He pronounced it the way an Israeli woman pronounces the name Sharon, so I asked him about it. I was hoping for some kind of Israel connection. That maybe we'd have something in common to talk about. Dreamer.

He told me that he changed it, when he joined his group. I can't remember the name of the group, but we aren't talking about a rock band. That would have been cool or somewhere in the norm.  It was more like the "we're waiting for the comet to pick us up and take us away from earth" type group.  Okaaaay. My friend walked away and I stood listening to him while my eyes glazed over and I kept asking myself, "why me?".

It may have been the same night or another as they all blend into one memory. *(AD)  I need to look at this and see if I can't see these as funny. At this moment it's like I'm reliving them and not feeling good. That is RIDICULOUS. I have to learn to look back and laugh. These experiences are funny. end of digression.

There must  have been a full moon whenever I chanced to go out. That might have explained the abundance of moon men. AKA Lunatics.

It was a lovely spring evening and there was a garden outside. I left the bar and found a seat on a bench, by myself. Probably hoping and expecting to be by myself. But no. A man came over and sat down next to me.

The first thing he said was, "are my shoes alright for this place?" I looked at him, dressed really casz,(How the hell do you spell that short version that means casual?)  and I said, "sure", wondering what new Hell was about to begin.  He told me he was nervous because he hadn't been out for some time. [ I was wondering, out of the institution?]. He then  proceeded in his monologue.  His girlfriend had just dumped him. She was  so great and she was a biker and his mom didn't like her and he did and he was  really hurt, although they hadn't been together long, like a couple of weeks, but he knew that he had to go back out and find someone.............. and my mind started glazing over I wondered if I looked like a fashion consultant or had the word shrink stamped on my forehead.  I nodded and smiled and eventually got up and walked away.

AND FOR DESSERT

The last one I'll mention in this post, is John Travolta. I can still see him in my mind's eye.

We were sitting/standing, near the front of the dance bar. In struts a young man.
He is dressed in a black tuxedo with the bow tie pulled open. He appears to have come from an affair and is ready to get his groove on.

He is about 5' 1'. Pale skinned with frizzy blonde hair. Thankfully, it wasn't in an Afro.  Like me, he had an invisible stamp on his head. His read Nebbish. That would translate into Nerd who is not necessarily smart. Or maybe loser might be a fair translation. I know. Very judgey for someone with Maggots.

I hope for his sake that he was drunk. His entrance was notable. He was barely there a minute before he asks someone to dance. Raise your hand if you know who it is. You got it.  Maybe I was the shortest woman at the door. Who knows?

He lead me to the dance floor and proceeded to dance. I'm sure that I  mentioned that I love dancing. It is also something I am very good at. At least that part of going out was fun. Normally.

He danced with abandon. He looked like he was having muscle spasms and seizures. That would have been enough. But the very best part was when he did the move from Saturday Night Fever. Remember that classic film moment? John Travolta, on the mirrored dance floor. He stops for a moment and then he does it. So perfectly. So smoothly. If you don't know this classic and showy dance move, look it up on You Tube. It was an iconic moment in movie history.

 When my partner did it, other dancers on the floor could not help staring as he did that famous move.  And it was not because it was so Travolta. It was more like he looked like a tiny statue of Liberty, wearing a tux, pointing his noble arm to the sky, bringing it down and thrusting it back up. Not smoothly. Not rhythmically, just embarrassingly. It was at this point I finally asked  "Dear Lord, May I please become invisible right this moment?" "Dear Lord, WHY ME??????????????????"   Had I been listening I would have heard a question.

"In all these tales of woe, what is the common denominator?" The answer was
ME!!