"To ascribe intention to chance is either the height of absurdity or the depth of profundity, according to the way in which we understand it" -Arthur Schopenhauer

As I sit drinking my wine, disregardful of the mating games going on around me, I think to myself, how did I get here? Not in Victor Frankl's 'man's search for meaning' way, but how did I get here, the bar? I used to think that only desperate people went to bars to meet people. I have since changed my opinion because I refuse to accept that I am in a state of desperation.

I look over at the lobster sitting in his tank alone and I think I know exactly how he feels. No rock to hide under and out of his natural habitat. Sitting at the bar of Big Daddy's restaurant, enjoying a glass of red wine, I feel like the lobster, staring out from his tank at the world, hands tied, helpless from the course of destiny.

I have taken great pains tonight to present my best outfit, hairdo and makeup in the hopes of being a 'chosen one'. I try to be different, to stand out in the crowd. But what is it that makes me different from the other women in the bar? We share the same goal; the rest is just cosmetics. We're here in hopes of meeting our destiny. Through hardship we learn that destiny has his own timing. So we smile and wait with the same hopes and aspirations hoping tonight will be the night.

Sometimes I try to think of my evenings out as an episode of 'Sex and the City'. Just take the evening for what it is, one night of my life to meet men. Live in the moment, thrive on today's energy, for in Scarlet O'Hara problem philosophy, 'I'll think about it tomorrow, for tomorrow is another day'. But then again, TV is not reality.

A creepy man looking at me. My friend tries to sit in his line of vision. This is what happens to me when I go out. In the movies the hot guy buys the beautiful woman a drink, they talk, then realize that they are the only two normal people in the bar and live happily ever after. That has never happened to me. I only attract freaks, creeps and the "how you doin'?" type otherwise known as ginos.

The bartender brings me a shot. I didn't order a shot. "Compliments of who?" Before I could ask what it is, the bartender walks away. Saving grace, he brought one for my friend. 'Sex and the City' style, we scream with girly, high-pitched glee. "Cheers!" Down she goes. Was it the creepy man who bought the shot for us? To think he finds some erotic pleasure in watching us drink almost makes me gag.

My friend convinced me to come tonight to meet the cute bartender. It's her attempt to introduce me to men. Note to self: say no next time. The cute bartender is now off his shift and comes over to say hello. Be still my beating heart, he is tall, blonde, styling and handsome. Oh but wait, a beautiful, blonde hourglass just walked by …and then there were two. So much for my opposites attract theory. Strike one for lost causes.

"So Juli, tell me a story". What! Who is this guy? And more importantly how does he know my name? I look at him with my best 'you've got to be kidding' look and walk away. Instant rash. Nice DKNY suit, but oozing with oil, too slick for me.

The guy standing behind me is eavesdropping on our conversation about how we thought the cute bartender was such a nice guy, but not anymore. It's painfully obvious. He leans over on his elbow, his beer conveniently placed directly behind me. How rude. I change the subject to literature. "I just read this great book called ' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius' by Dave Eggers", he disappears quietly and quickly.

I'm starting to realize that I am going home tonight alone and empty handed, no telephone number or email address. But wait another drink, compliments of a very nice looking gentleman. "Thank you. Hi I'm Juli, nice to meet you". I extend my hand. "Rick" he says. Apparently he has no need to say more to me, because he's interested in my friend. Strike two for lost causes.

Me and the lobster, sitting there watching the world go by, alone in our little fish tanks of a world. Life does get better than this. I have known life to be better than this. I am better than this. All I keep thinking is, at least I don't have a cat.

My parents have suggested the idea that they could find someone for me. Right now it doesn't seem like such a bad idea, but maybe the alcohol is affecting my clarity of thought. I'll call my parents tomorrow, just some preliminary investigating. Strike three for lost causes.

Copyright © 2000 Juli Strader All Rights Reserved

Juli graduated in 1997 with a BA in History and Communications. Her interests include rock climbing, snowboarding and reading. She loves a man with a sense of humor, style and intelligence. She works in fashion and lives in Ottawa.