Rhapsody's

Rhapsody’s.

The name in itself conjures visions of rapture, delight, ecstasy and makes one hopeful.

Rhapsody’s.

The place where all the over forty singles go to look cool, be seen, hang out .

Rhapsody’s.

I look at anyone who’s been and know they have a social life, they have friends, lots of friends.
These people always seem taller than me, larger than life, popular and with it.
So is this is my mission, my goal, to be able to say that I too have a social life.
I swish into the parking lot as if I’ve been here plenty and saunter in straight up to the bar counter.

A young man approaches, a sweet smile, his head tilted – condescending.
I ask him if I can order a drink – he says yes of course – he looks confused – he ask where I’m sitting. “Nowhere,” I say “ I’ll stand at the counter if that’s ok?”

“If you don’t drink, what are you going to do in a pub?”, says the reasonable voice in my head.

I boldly order a tonic and soda and the guy grabs two glasses with ice. “ No, no, mix the tonic and soda in one glass”.

“Oh,” he says, with eyebrows raised and then a little frown ?

I feel like buying cigarettes to give myself something cool to do, but I don’t smoke so decide rather to jab my straw into the ice and fiddle around in my glass for a while –

Then I turn my back and lean against the counter, smiling to myself as I send a few sms’s as if I have a very busy and interesting life.

I smile at Jo’s one word answer as if he’s told me very long and interesting story and I reply, with a very long and interesting story.

Then I sms Harry and make plans for a Pilates lesson with a look on my face that says I am loved, I have a lover, and I’m sending and receiving sexy messages.

Anyway after arranging my life via sms and exhausting all facial expressions on my list that belie how empty and lonely I feel, I waft out, head held high.

At home I console myself with a packet of Marie biscuit sarmies slathered together with smooth butter, and whatever’s on SABC2.

Good Weekend? My colleagues inquire.

It’s all I have to mutter nonchalantly,

“Rhapsody’s” and of course, they’re impressed.

 As they should be.

I obviously have a social life darling.

....Single and Dating

Being on “the other side” of a long marriage or single and middle-aged is daunting and takes a bit of getting used to.
The relief and joy of freedom mixed with the fear of the unknown makes for a heady cocktail that lifts and drops the emotions at will.

You only have to look at the on-line dating sites to realize that the need for companionship and connection is a primal and essential part of being human.

There is a language one has to learn. There are signs that at first you’ll miss and code words that only the initiated understand. “Come to my place for coffee?” implies sex after supper, and then also not for everyone. It’s confusing to say the least. “I bumped into Jenny the other day”, said with a wry smile and apparently they had “a sexual encounter”.

“Do you follow the British or the American model?” Confused? Yes, so was I. The British way is to stick with one partner sexually until the relationship is done, and the American way is to make the most of any sexual encounter you’d like to while still officially “dating” the partner.

Whether or not this is official, it was a good way for him to brooch the subject.

“Do you know your status?” does not imply single or married, but positive or negative.

Words like “window period” and “protection” are loaded and can keep you up on the balmiest of nights, sweating with fear when you could be dreaming of Eros.

When a couple is asking after B&D they certainly aren’t looking for Black ‘n Decker but bondage and discipline.

Everyone with their history and reference framework trying to find a suitable match, is like trying to throw two curveballs and hoping they hit each other somewhere in mid-air.

“Lets do something Crazy?” for me may mean opening all the cars windows on the highway at 120KM/h, while for you it may mean “shooting up” in a public toilet. “Explain to me how that will work”, becomes a great key to opening up the pictures in someone else’s mind.
Never ever say to a man “are you up for it?”. Whatever you meant doesn’t apply. He will come towards you quickly, breathing heavily or he’ll run away and you’ll never coax him back.
There are so many places to research my new single status and what with “tips for women”, blind dates, on-line-dating and speed dating one would rather up in a fetal position.

Where do I go to meet people, to dance, laugh, chat, flirt, stand in a thick crowd of people, smiling with a drink in my hand ?
Would I be considered a senior? Apparently then the rules are a little different and you can say “I like you can we do coffee?”  Too direct?

I have been to my local gym sweating it out on the spinning bike making all the appropriate noises. I have done 10 perfect pikes on the ball and 20 impressive pushups in studio1 – yes, the one with the big windows!

I have done slow and saucy side-bends on a vibrating power plate until my eyes want to pop out, and that right next to the most beautifully toned and seemingly blind men!

Am I trying too hard?

You think?

Well, maybe just a little.

Arm-wrestling on the counter in a desperate attempt to hold someone’s hand is just too pitiful.

I resign myself to singledom, along with thousands of other lonely people and give it a rest. I act as if I’m happy alone but with a gnawing need for companionship in the pit of my stomach, or is that my heart?