Now let me just say that my attitude in the past has been to attend weddings stag, since there was really no one who I a. wanted to take, b. thought could handle themselves if I ran off to talk with friends, c. would be fun company and offer good conversation and d. would understand why I always have to go to the bathroom when the bouquet toss occurs. I thought my guy friend would be perfect!
Approximately 30 minutes before I was suppose to leave for the wedding I realized that I was indeed going to this wedding of people I've never met, or haven't talked to in five or six years, solo. I put on my coat, pumped myself up by saying I was going to have a good time no matter what and prepared to brave the bitter cold and snow in a lightweight dress
When I arrived at the ceremony, I took a seat near the middle of the bride's side. I noticed that the two chairs on either side of me and two in front of me were not being occupied. People walked up, looked around and chose other seats. Had I forgotten deoderant? As a single woman stag at a wedding, were the “marrieds” afraid they'd catch my leprosy? It seemed as if no one wanted to sit next to me, or even near me.
As the ceremony progressed, one of the pastor's phrases caught my attention “let all here today who are married be renewed in faith, and love with this union….” I wondered why do you have to be married to appreciate or have faith in marriage?
Finally, the last straw - table assignments. While I had managed to find a few friends I could actually talk to, I hadn't accounted for the potentially empty seat next to me at the reception. I meandered over and laid my purse down on the table to find that there was no “Jennifer Fortney Guest” anywhere near me, or even on the table. As people sat down, I realized that even my girlfriend must have foreshadowed that I would be coming alone, and left no seat for my date-that-bagged-on-me, but instead sat me at a table of all couples, none of whom I knew.
It's possible that my former co-worker and friend was trying to encourage me to meet some new and interesting people, but I couldn't help but long to sit with the few people I did know two tables away. Instead, I had been cast out. I had become the cause for the awkward number of chairs at the table.
I don't blame my friend, who has always had the best intentions for as long as I've known her, but it did feel as if I was somehow crying wolf by saying “I'm bringing a date!”
Since then I've attended many holiday parties where the same question is inevitably asked “Where's your date?” “Did you come alone?” My typical response: “That beautiful bottle of red wine from the Loire Valley is mine for the night.” To which I always get an awkward glance or look of pity in reply. And, with some expectation, I'm always seated as the extra chair crammed into a table obviously not meant for one more.
For the same reason I don't take dates to weddings (I suppose I've learned my lesson of even trying to bring a date), I typically don't take dates to holiday or New Year's parties any more. Mostly because it's a great chance to be introduced to my friend's single guy pals, who I've never met or meet someone entirely new. But mostly because there's really no one I want to take, at least no one who might get the wrong idea. Honestly, it's because I would rather go solo than cling to a date I have no intention of actually dating, or vice versa. I'd prefer to spend the evening with my girlfriends.
This New Year's I am attempting to round up my crew of urban companions for a casual night at a nice spot where we can be each other's dates. We'll discuss our big plans, hopes and dreams for the New Year. No judgment, no questions and no awkward glances. Just a fun night spent with people I know will make sure I get home if I've had too much to drink, or vice versa. Who will wing for me even if they voice opposition to my beer goggles. Where no one's excluded and Midnight kisses are replaced by hugs of genuine excitement and hope for the New Year. And where the perfect number of chairs at the table is the same as all those who care to join us to ring in the New Year.
• "Dating Games" appears the 1st and 15th of every month, exclusively in Lumino Magazine.
