Divorce At First Sight
I am no stranger to attending awkward lunch dates. It's been a staple of my life ever since I tried my hand at finding a worthy enough partner on Hinge. But in a bid to keep pushing myself outside my comfort zone, I agreed to a combined Lunar New Year and Valentine's Day event at a suburban RSL where its main clientele seemed to be the old grannies from the local retirement village or families with nothing better to do.
In fact, if I'm being brutally honest, the RSL looked quite abysmally rundown. There was no glitz and glamour like the ones in my usual area. And it certainly wasn't one I'd wish to attend on a regular basis unless I was on my death bed.
For non-Australians reading this post, RSL stands for the Returned and Services League of Australia. It is an independent support organisation for people who have served or are serving in the Australian Defence Force. More importantly, they have many clubs around the country to provide a venue for current and ex-serve personnel to enjoy a safe and comfortable place to share a meal or drink.
Depending on which suburb you go to they can be well-polished, filled with all manner of entertainment - mostly poker machines - while others look like they'll be swallowed up the tides of time. The one I attended? Very much in the latter.
Despite my initial reservations, I pushed forward.
After all, I'd already paid $20 to reserve a spot. I couldn't let it go to waste.
So, after meeting a key selection of other young hopefuls also looking to make connections and possibly match with them, I tried my best to converse with the others. Of course, being more taciturn, it became far more natural for me to sit and observe the proceedings between those who had arrived earlier.
I learned a few interesting facts from each: one of the men had migrated to Australia from Singapore, the woman sitting to his right (my left) was a country girl who had been to numerous cities before settling in Sydney with her family, and the woman sitting to his left (my right) had attended the event with her mother. Seated to my right was a man working in HR for a not-for-profit. On his other side was a woman who was currently at NSW Health.
All of them had vaguely interesting stories to tell. Yet instead of sharing them with the group, they had broken up into smaller pairings to converse.
Overall, it meant it was harder to find a point to jump in. All of them were sequestered in their own silos and I was outsider peering in through the window.
Worse, the man on my left always seemed to have his attention further down the table towards the older guests. While I did try to draw him out for a conversation, it would always end up falling a little flat.
The forced style of the event meant much of the conversations were stilted, relying primarily on small talk to get to know each other. To say it was a bore is putting it mildly. And I remember glancing at my watch wondering when it would be polite to abscond from the event and head home.
I suppose it didn't help that sitting at the far end, away from the other attendees, it felt like our small group were treated as the 'kids.' Or, at the very least, the 'young ones.' Just because I'm in my 30s doesn't mean I always have something to discuss with my fellow contemporaries. As my dating history has shown, not many people my own age, or younger, are equally mature or have an intellectual bent to draw out my curiosity.
Conversation flowed easier after lunch, which we were all required to order separately at the RSL bistro. My order was grilled barramundi with seasonal vegetables and mashed potatoes. A fairly decent and substantial meal given the other options on the menu, and one I dug into with gusto when it was finally ready.
While I could try to add some additional details to the rather lacklustre event, I don't think I could summon the words. After finishing my lunch, I kept one eye constantly on the time. Once it passed 1:30, I was out of my seat (mostly because I needed to pee after downing my orange juice furiously before ordering lunch because while I was sure no-one would roofie me at an event in broad daylight, I didn't want to risk the possibility). The others did ask if I was leaving and I told them a half-truth (though I'm sure most would interpret it as a lie).
Suffice it to say, I did not return to my seat afterwards. Instead, after paying a visit to the toilet, I bade goodbye to the host and slipped away.
And so I brought an end to the sham once and for all to seek the comfort of my video games and the sanctity of my home. I mean, if we're being completely and absolutely honest here, even though I think Cloud Strife is a bit of a limp noodle with absolutely no real charisma to speak of (besides how adorkable he can be sometimes), he's still a leg up from those at the lunch. Besides, he's ex-SOLDIER and could probably cleave me in two with one swipe of the Buster Sword.
Now, dear reader, I can almost hear you ask if I'll attend any further of these events. And while I cannot completely rule them out, it's doubtful I'll put my hand up in the near future.
Falling in love with complete strangers is not really in my wheelhouse. Sure, I do get the occasional squish but it's rare and few between.
The way I see it, there's no point in wasting more of what precious time I have on rather fruitless events. Especially when fanfiction can get me hot and bothered when I do fall for a fictional character from a book, TV show, movie or video game.
I mean, if all else fails, there's always AI! Or I can get a pet!
As an aside, getting a dog looks better and better with each passing year.
