A Catholic Walks Into A Bar

For this black sheep, few things in life make me feel so out of place than participating in my hometown's nightlife.  Every autumn, the local institution where I volunteer holds an annual meeting which features food, speeches and a small awards ceremony.  Formal wear isn't required but it's an excuse to get dressed up.  The festivities wind down around 9 PM so it leaves a few of us all dressed up with nowhere to go.

After a recent annual meeting, someone suggested going out to a local bar.  Since I didn't have much of a social life, they asked me to join them.  “How will you ever find anyone if you don't try?” one acquaintance remarked.  I decided to tag along just to prove her wrong.

Whether I stay home or go out, the results have always been the same because visiting a bar is one of the most inefficient ways to meet people.  You put all your hope on the random chance a woman with similar interests and beliefs will be sitting there just waiting to strike up a nice conversation.  Being an older Catholic single makes the odds of this happening pretty slim.

That night, six of us went out to a small Irish pub in the downtown.  We found a mostly jeans and t-shirt crowd but I was still wearing my dress shirt, tie, waistcoat and slacks from the annual meeting.  The place was filled with tattooed hipster millennials since there was an art college nearby.  Guess the odds didn't play out in my favor.

Our small group started ordering drinks but I only had water.  We joked to the waitress that I was the designated driver but in reality, I just didn't like the taste of many alcoholic beverages.  That didn't stop my acquaintances from offering me a sip of whatever concoction they ordered.  Hmmm.  Feeling awkward and being pressured to drink.  Why don't I go out more often?

They racked up a pretty hefty tab because in their minds, alcohol equaled happiness and they didn't care if they got wasted.  One person from the group had even suffered a mild heart attack the week before but that did not curtail his intake.  It just happened to be open mic night so when the mildly talented singers belted out the tunes, it was difficult to hear what anyone at our table was saying.  Later, two strange looking old women shuffled in with a guitar to do a dramatic poetry reading that was just awful.

As my acquaintances enjoyed more adult beverages, one of them thought I was being a bit uptight for refusing to order a drink.  He then asked if I had ever been laid.  Suddenly, all eyes were on me but I told them it was none of their business.  As a devout Catholic, I had encountered this question a few times before but there was no good way to answer it.  If I said yes, they would want to know details.  If I said no, I'd be the butt of their jokes.  As they continued to pry, I just acted dumb until they found something else to talk about.  When I got up to go to the bathroom, the smell of marijuana wafted in from the back deck.  There was absolutely nothing here for me so after awhile, I decided to leave.

Experiences like this make me wonder why alcohol must be a night on the town's central focus.  I don't see anything wrong with moderate drinking especially if your beverage compliments a meal but people get carried away.  Perhaps this is why I think those Theology on Tap events seem very gimmicky.

Single Catholics don't have many options when it comes to finding a spouse but the bar scene seems like a big waste of time and money.  How often should we go to the local watering hole before we realize there just isn't anyone there for us?