The Decline of Civilization as We Know It (or Why I Am So Glad to Be Out of the Dating Scene)

Note: This post was originally written last month, but due to various other distractions I have only just gotten around to posting it.

Last night I went out with a friend to celebrate her birthday. We started the evening with a nice, laid-back Japanese dinner and then headed over to a local bar/lounge/club. My friend is a dancer, so she was in her element. I, on the other hand, have never really been a "clubby" sort of person (mainly because I have no rhythm on a dance floor), so that, and the fact that I had set myself a drinking limit before I left the house and was actually sticking to it, meant that I didn't really have the best time. I did, however, find myself in the middle of a comic episode which has inspired this post, so I guess the evening wasn't a complete waste.

One of the women in our party is recently divorced, so she has been enjoying reliving her youth and flirted mercilessly with a group of guys who said they were twenty-six but barely looked older than twelve. They were typical local boys ("townies," as a friend labeled them) and had been drinking for a while by the time they cozied up to us, so I really had to restrain myself when one of them asked me six times where I was from and then still insisted on telling me his friend had just moved to Canada too.

But the icing on the cake -- the moment I began to question my faith in humanity and worried about the future of civilization -- came when one of the other guys sidled up to me. The following conversation resulted (completely unembellished or exaggerated for dramatic effect, I might add):

"So what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a teacher."

"Really? That's cool. What do you teach?"

"English."

"English? So, like, you're an American over here in England teaching people how to talk?"

"No, I don't teach English language, I teach English literature."

Blank stare. "So, like, if a guy came up to you and said, 'You're really beautiful,' what would your response be?"

Blank stare, from me this time. "I'm not sure I understand."

"You said you teach English."

"Yes, I teach English literature."

"Like the romantics?"

Ah, now we're getting somewhere. "Yes, exactly."

"So, like, what if I said you were well fit?" At this point, I am really contemplating escaping out the bathroom window (which I did once or twice in my single days).

"Again, I don't understand what that has to do with what I do for a living."

"You said you teach English."

"Yes, I teach English literature. Like Dickens, Bronte..." His eyes have glazed over, and I realize I am talking way over his head. "I teach books," I finally say.

"Oh, right." It's a lightbulb moment. "So, what if an English bloke came up to you and said you were really beautiful?" Oy veh.

"Well, an English bloke did, and I married him." I flash my ring, because the ways in which I have subtly tried to attract his attention to it (brushing my hair behind my ear, taking a drink with my ring finger prominently displayed) have not worked.

"You're married? Awesome!" He makes a move to high five me, and I realize it's time to call a taxi.

When I got home, I took an extra long look at Crumpet sleeping peacefully in her bed, snuggled up to The Other Half, and silently thanked the gods that I am not in the dating scene anymore. Because, as I said, if that guy was a representative of the single man, I really worry about the future of civilization.