Use the force

I called a meeting of the local chapter of the running club last night so we could get started organizing our upcoming 500th run event. The meeting was to begin at 6 pm at the local brewery. I arrived early and was lucky enough to be met by S, a quiet member of the club that I have not spent much one-on-one time with. All I knew of S was that he had an uncanny resemblance to the Unabomber, with personality to match, is a sporadic hasher, and was at last update desperately seeking female companionship.

I was already at the bar when S arrived and invited him to pull up a stool and join me for a pint. He opted to stand, sip water and avoid eye contact. He immediately began discussing the general problems with hashers - alcoholism, sex fiendism, general debauchery, and a complete and utter lack of self control. He spoke with a great deal of disdain and proceeded to spew cynicism and scorn toward the members of the group. He was particularly disenchanted with the women of the group - none of whom have apparantly been taken in by his charms - which in turn makes them evil. He named names and passed judgment on nearly every member of the crew as if armegeddon were occurring tomorrow and he had to get all this off his chest. He even said he knew about my deep, dark side, despite my usual "shiny happy" looks. This knowledge, was, of course gleened from a comment I made about something sex-related at a post-run dinner six months ago. He couldn't recall the comment, or even it's nature, only that it showed him my dark side. I was impressed by his ability to judge everyone so accurately and quickly and perplexed that he would continue to voluntarily show up to our events if he so disliked everyone and everything about it. I jokingly referred to him as Lord Vadar due to his "dark side" comments. He took offense to this. I told him he could go home if he wanted and no one would be offended but for some reason he stayed by my side - perhaps to try to find a glimmer of my alleged dark side again so he wouldn't have to accept that another single female just plain wasn't interested in him. As he prattled on I pondered his plight, then it dawned on me: he's one of them.

You know, the 30-something, single male engineers that plague the fringes of society by renting rooms from others, hoarding their own money for some unknown day when they need it to buy a cabin to live in Montana, and in the meantime spend their days searching for a June Cleaveresque woman who is certainly waiting around the bend to marry them.

Sure enough, with three questions I was able to peg him: Age: 34; Job description: Engineer; Goal in Life: Marry a demure by day/seductress by night school teacher who will dote on him, bpop out four children (one with asthma so they have to install HEPA filters and worry constantly about), and drive the pre-purchased minivan which she will drive with a permanent, slightly enhanced Crest-whitened smile at all times. If I had a nickel for every guy like this I've met in the past five years I'd be retired.

Still, I listened to him rant about the disfunction of our club. When I asked him why he came at all he said he enjoyed it for the exercise and that he liked the men in the group. He said the women were too "messed up" for him and all "binge drinkers". The only woman he admitted he has no problem with just so happens to be much older than he, rather unattractive by conventional standards, and someone he considers 'one of the guys'. I inquired about the double standard for men/unattractive women vs. attractive women and he didn't catch the meaning. I then advised that perhaps the club isn't the best place for him to look for a mate. After all, anyone in the club will tell you not to date another member.

Alas we were saved by the arrival of M and C, two other members. We all sat down for our meeting and S and I decided to split a pizza. S contributed nothing to the meeting and merely sat there eating his half of the pizza. When the check came he literally split the bill - the pizza was $9.50 plus tax and tip. He gave me $6.00 and told me I owe him $1.00, so I gave him $.50 and he said I still owe him $1.00. I threw $21 on the table and left. I guess I'll never learn.