So, dear readers, it’s clear that I took a big old break from this meeting-men-in-person thing. Truth is, going out to meet men in real-life is exhausting. Also, a guy I had met long ago on dating site called me up and we started dating again.

…and that eventually ended.

So, after taking a few months to restore my energy (and the sheer force of will required to get back in the game), This One Girl is now ready to Go back Out.

(As you recall, Addie ((that’s me)), is trying to find the love of her life strictly offline. This blog is all about how she goes about this …)

Take a Deep Breath …

The place? The bar at the Alamo Drafthouse. The night? New Year’s Eve.

I had purchased a ticket to see a movie and went in early to check out the bar scene.

Practicing all my dating coach’s advice, I wore a bright color, chatted with the bartender, and made brief eye contact with men who walked in. I turned myself around from the bar, smiled and looked around the room. This is body language that says that I am available, am a happy person, and I’m up for conversation.

Now, remember, it is New Year’s Eve. So the men tromping in were either on a date, or clumped with roughly 12 other men, to get their New Year’s ON, if you know what I mean.

Oh, did I mention what time this is, exactly? Sigh … 6:00 pm … Men sorta look at me, then look away. Maybe they think I’m waiting for my date?

Her Name was Lola

All of the sudden I’m that old faded nightclub showgirl. You know, Lola, from the Barry Manilow song. I can practically feel the faded feathers sprouting in my hair. I’m reminded of the time in Vegas when I felt like a hooker, when I approached a bunch of men in a Irish pub. I start to feel despair creeping into my evening.

A bearded, nose-ringed millennial sits two bar stools down and orders several beers for his buddies back at, what I imagine, is a happier table.

“How’s your night going?’ he says.

“Just great!” I lie.

Silence. I’m about to say something about the weather when he tips his glass to me and bids me a happy new year. He strolls off with his beers for his buddies.

I check my watch. Movie starts in five minutes. Saved by Hollywood this time.

And so begins my next round of One Girl Goes Out.

Until next time, dear readers. I super-double-promise something happier to report.