Alright, Already!

The Singles Mixer

The main reason I attended was because it was stressed in the email invitation that you should bring business cards to hand out. So I thought, well, it's a Saturday night and I can sit home and work or I can get out and try to meet some people. So, I gussied-up a bit (not too much, mind you) and headed out.

It was a typical bar scene, but with the added awarenesss that everyone there was quite unattached, adding a certain hint of intrigue to the atmosphere. There were mostly women in their 40's-50's with secretary's spread and way too much makeup and men in their 40's-50's with paunches and 80's style facial hair. There were a few younger and a few older folks all sprinkled throughout. I did recognize one person I was accquainted with and spoke with him for a while. I mingled a bit, handed out a few cards, fended off a few advances and then eventually took a seat at the bar and sipped a coke and watched the bar room drama unfold.

Although I arrived only shortly after the event began, there was at least one fellow who'd obviously already quaffed a few. He was 40ish, had pretty-boy hair and was probably the handsomest fellow in the place. He was very aware of that fact. It really tickled me to see that by the end of the evening he was slow dancing with a cigarette-and-whiskey voiced lady in too tight jeans. The pickins were slim, but after a few drinks, I guess he thought she was lookin' good in them tight jeans, leathery face or no! Funny stuff.

And then there was a tall 50ish lady, all dolled up in a silky blouse with a fur lined collar, sipping Cosmopoiltans and loudly whispering derogatory comments about all of the other women, as she minced about in her ultra high heels. She was a hoot!

Of course, there's always something amusing to see on the dance floor. It's amazing how very cool people think they look when they dance. Especially when alcohol is involved. Now, being a wedding photographer, I have become somewhat immune to the inherent humor of drunken dance floor antics. But, I had to smile at the short, rotund fellow swiveling his hips to the beat and spicing it up with the occasional, saucy clap of his hands above his head. Call me mean, but that is just really funny to watch!

Well, I could go on, but my lunch break is over and I must get back to work. I'm pretty swamped.

Tat-ta, all!