Does this Hammer Make my Butt Look Big?

So last Saturday, under strong encouragement from my meddling albeit well-meaning mother and against my own better judgement I volunteered at a "singles" event for Habitat for Humanity. The event was designed as a volunteer day for single people to meet like-minded, service oriented people or at least people who are willing to pose as "service oriented" in order to score.

Donning my new hairdo which can only be referred to as "lesbian chic" and just enough make-up to look glowy but not enough to look like I was actually wearing make-up, I set off to find my civic minded sole mate. I felt my dread grow as I got closer to the site. I began to imagine what the event would look like, a bunch of desperate women in their 40's and 50's standing around with pink hammers, overly quaffed hair and waaaay to much lipstick waiting for eligible, handsome, flannel clad bachelors in bow ties ala Chippendales who never materialize. Uggghh. How could I lump myself in this category? Where is my self respect?


I arrived at the site, took a deep breath and exited my vehicle. I walked tentatively towards the area where everyone was huddled around a fire burning in an old freestanding wood stove. Oh why would there be a fire burning in the middle of a construction site, you might be asking yourself? Well mostly because it was 32 degrees outside and raining. I joined the rest of the group making some small talk as I tried to blend in but the awkward tension was palpable. Underneath the red faced, runny-nosed, frozen limbed exteriors we were all scoping each other out. I tried to play it very cool like, "Oh, is this a singles event? I had no idea, I'm just here to do my part for humanity" but it was inescapable. Here we were, a group of people from all walks of life looking for love under the guise of good deed-doing. Somehow that realization made it seems even more contrived. The volunteer coordinator had us play some "orientation games" that invoked a self-conscious sense of sixth grade summer camp (minus the summer) but that were actually helpful in breaking the ice. Remaining true to form, I had decided in the first fifteen minutes that there was no one there I was interested in. What a relief, now I didn't have to spend the rest of the day worrying whether or not I had a booger hanging out of my nose. We got assigned to our posts and mine was organizing a storage container that was completely removed from the rest of the action. "Perfect! Now I don't have to socialize with anyone!" I secretly thought to myself. It started to dawn on me the reason I'm still single to begin with. Two other women joined me in the tight space of the container and most likely due to our proximity we were confiding in each other with in minutes. They both admitted to being there to meet men so I did too. We were able to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of picking someone up whilst wearing a hard hat and sixteen layers of clothes. They shared their life stories of failed relationships and broken hearts as did I but the big difference between us was that they both still possessed an unabashed sense of hope. They were there because neither of them ( in their 40's and 50's) had given up on the idea of finding that special someone to spend their life with. It was eye-opening. When had I become so cynical?



I learned a lot from those smart, attractive, hilariously funny and yes, single women. I learned that it's okay to admit that you get lonely, you're not the only one. It's okay to put yourself out there by going to contrived, ridiculous "singles" events (especially if you can all sit down, have a glass of wine and laugh about it at the end of the day) and it's okay to hope that there is a special someone out there.

Ironically enough, I met not one but two special someones that day that I connected with on a very deep level and plan to stay in close touch with. God, why can't I be gay??!