i'm an eligible bachelor. love me.

by mg at 02:00 PM on June 28, 2001

A couple weeks ago my friend Mei invited me to this party put on by the company she works for. I think Mei is the absolute bee’s knees, so of course I said “yes.” Then she let me know that the party was a single’s only thing, and that the price of admission (for her) was brining an eligible bachelor of the opposite gender (me).

I guess that should make me happy. When someone you crush on (but could never actually date) has your name float to the top of her brain when she has to think of eligible bachelors, that’s kind of cool.

A little bit about Mei; just because I feel like talking about her. She is a very cute (hot), and smart woman who I’ve known for eight or nine years now. She is entirely too quiet, though. Back in high school, most of us (guys) hardly noticed her. That might also have been because she was in a long term, serious, committed relationship, but I attribute it to the quietness since I’ve never failed to lust after another man’s woman before.

Now, Mei is still cute (hot, actually), smart, and still just as quiet, though, she finally seems to be overcoming it and damn, all the guys in our circle have certainly noticed. I’ve had talks with nearly all of them about how much we are all in love with her.

Mei is also kinda cute because she is just as innocent as a girl scout on a camping trip. Whenever my mates (XX and XY) get into conversations about weird sexual perversions, at some point in the conversation, she’ll have to lean over to the person sitting next to her and ask what we mean by “tossed salad,” or whatever. Isn’t that just the cutest?

Anyway, the party was for singles. The way Mei described it was that this was going to be a small thing, just for her department. It’d be a chance to mingle with a few people who were also single and looking to hook up with someone. When she invited me, perhaps because I was feeling a little down and a lot backed up, I said yes.

Now, I’m sure I’ve mentioned this a million times, and you probably could have picked this up on your own even if I hadn’t, but I’m socially awkward. Well, not exactly, but I’m not socially proficient by any means. Once I’m talking to someone, it usually isn’t a problem. I can just blather on and on. I’m a great listener, and I’m funny and cute. But, I’ve never been able to just go up to a strange woman and start talking to her. I just can’t get over that “first contact” thing.

Also, I’m a bad one on one conversationalist. Sometimes I can talk a mile a minute, but there are other times when I just don’t have a damn thing to say. Silence isn’t good if you are only talking to one other person. I hate those long awkward pauses. But, if I’m in a group of three or more people, it’s great, because someone else can always pick up the chatter slack if I’m just not able to come up with a reply to whatever stupid thing the woman I’m talking to is saying.

Well, all that stuff I conveniently forgot about when I agreed to go to this party. And while it was still a far way off, I could just think about how much fun it would be to hang out with a lot of desperate women, because I didn’t have to think about how I’d actually have to talk to them, and not just end up back at my apartment all sweaty and sticky.

As the dreaded day approached, the idea that I’d actually have to talk to people (women) started dawning on me. Eek! Mei actually talked to me earlier yesterday to ask if I still wanted to go. I really didn’t, but I didn’t want to stop her from getting her swerve on with any guy she might meet there, so I said yes. Besides, I figured, at best, I’d be going home with some really hot, slutty, drunk babe, and at worst, I’d have something interesting to write about today.

So, finally, I got dressed up to go, all casual like, a nice pair of slacks (Dockers!) and a button up shirt, and headed out. It’s been hot as hell in New York recently and yesterday was no exception. By the time I’d walked the three blocks from my apartment to the subway, I was sweating like I hoped I would be by the end of the night. Only, there wasn’t someone else’s naked, sweaty body pressed against mine. Not until I actually got on the subway. Except for the naked part.

Anyway, I met up with Mei at her office, and we walked over the where the party was going on and… It turned out being a much different deal than I thought.

This wasn’t a little office party; this was an event. The party was not actually put together by the company Mei works for, but by People magazine. This was some sort of event to coincide with the magazine’s 50 Most Eligible Bachelors issue. I was at a party sponsored by AOL Time Warner. I was ready to just about shoot myself.

Everyone there was dressed in black. Beautiful. Yuppie. Typical New Yorkers. Or at least the kind of typical New Yorkers that everyone who has ever seen any movie or TV show about New York expects typical New Yorkers to be like. The kind of typical New Yorkers that everyone who moves to New York from somewhere else tries to be. So basically, this party was a total fictional New York. That only exists on the silver screen. And, I suppose, right then and there in front of me.

Can I just say that I hate the typical New Yorker? The kind of person who roller blades around Central Park, who eats Sunday brunch at a sidewalk café, who picks up the New York Times, and insists on reading it on the subway without knowing the proper way of folding it. The kind of person who will move to Connecticut as soon as they have kids.

To add to the impression that I had stepped into the movie, there were also TV cameras around, reporting on this “news” story. And I’m sure if I had stuck around much longer, there might have even been a celebrity or two. But, obviously, I didn’t stick around. Luckily, Mei is as socially awkward as I am, and we both felt uncomfortable, so we left.