Stir events by Match.com - Part Three: This is starting to get sad

Another Trip to the Wilderness

For reasons I'm still trying to understand, I made a third trip into the wilderness that is a Match.com Stir event. If you're new to my exploits in this arena, you can find my previous posts there. To summarize my first two outings:

• First time: I met up with a friend's girlfriend who was not acting like she had a boyfriend.

• Second time: I came with the friend whose now ex-girlfriend was there the last time. I met someone, but after three months, the relationship ended. Why, you ask? She didn't read well, or at all really. She shared intimate details of our sex life with her entire family (mom, dad, three sisters). And when we had a disagreement once (not a fight, just a calm discussion), she responded by curling up into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably for an hour.

So, the other night was my third trip to Stir. This time, I decided to fly solo. My buddy has found himself a girlfriend, and I couldn't beg anyone else to come with me—you know, I had options and whatnot. Now a veteran of these events, I left with many observations.

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Observations From a Stir Veteran

• Drunk girl: I saw her dancing alone again. She's made appearances at the other events, always completely drunk by the time things start and hitting on every guy there. The weird thing? She's very attractive. I couldn't tell you if she was smart because she slurred her words like a stroke victim. Either way, I'm glad she was there.

• 40-year-old dude in a baseball cap: Listen, Billy Jack, everyone knows you're bald. It's cool. You're fooling no one with the hat. Either shave your head or take the goddamn hat off.

• The husky Indian chick (convenience store, not casino): Last time I was there, I made every attempt to escape her, and she actually asked me, "Why did we never hang out?" The reason why doesn't matter; your being a glutton for punishment is what fascinates me. Do you remember being dismissive of what I did for a living? Or telling me that dumb people watch TV after I told you I loved TV? You fall into one of two categories: a liar or stupid. Which is it?

• People who can't take a hint: Luckily, I learned early on when women weren't interested in me. (Okay, it was in 7th and 8th-grade dances, and the fact that any girl, let alone a mildly attractive one, caused me to have a boner hard enough to cut glass. Looking back, yeah, that was probably a factor.) But I watched men and women continue to bombard the opposite sex with questions when that person was making it painfully obvious they weren't interested. I commend persistence, even if I don't understand it, but it's respectable. Either way, raise your self-awareness a bit and move on.

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Final Thoughts

My night ended with no real prospects on the horizon, but I did get a blog post out of it. More importantly, I'm curious to hear about the experiences others have had at these events. Leave a comment and go wild; spare no embarrassing details.

Note: It will show that I have to approve all comments now because some ass-clown keeps posting spam ads for boner pills on everything I put up. To this person, who speaks English as well as a Vietnamese hooker: I hope your grandmother is attacked by an AIDS-infested wolverine, you pathetic shit.

I Went to Another Match.com Event So You Don't Have To

Match.com's "Stir" events are always an adventure. After a messy encounter with my friend's girlfriend at the last one, I was hesitant to go back. Luckily, that drama meant my friend was now newly single, and I had the perfect wingman for round two.

A Night of Horrors (and Humor)

Going in with a friend makes these events so much easier. We headed to a Grand Rapids bar, grabbed some beers, and took in the scene. Just like the last time, it was a 50/50 split of men and women, with people of all ages. My buddy, a 6'5" dude in his early 40s, would soon discover his height attracts a very... special kind of woman.

It wasn't long before we were approached by a dynamic duo: Amanda, 34, and Marie, 51. While Amanda's body was a bit… uniquely shaped, Marie was rail-thin and a self-proclaimed "huge fan" of tall guys. After ten minutes of polite chatter, Marie looked at my friend and, completely straight-faced, asked, "I bet I could climb you, mind if I try?" The silence was deafening. My friend and I just stared at each other, trying to process if we had just heard what we thought we heard. Note to self: know when to pull the ripcord and make a swift exit.

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After an unceremonious escape from the world's worst morning radio show duo, we were immediately cornered by a group of five insurance agents. This crew was mostly forgettable, save for Sandy, a short, stout, and aggressive woman who put me through a rapid-fire interview: "Where do you work? What do you read? Do you travel?" She would then answer her own questions, immediately followed by her unfiltered opinion. "Do you watch TV? I think TV is for dumb people. Successful people climbing the corporate ladder don't watch TV." When I admitted my love for television, she actually responded, "So you don't want to be successful?"

At that point, I knew I had to make a move. You can insult me, but don't you dare besmirch the good name of television.

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I literally turned my back on Sandy, not knowing what or who was behind me. That's when I met Kristen. She was cute, funny, and — best of all — a fellow Detroit Tigers fan. We started talking, and the conversation just flowed. She asked questions and listened to the answers. Whatever "it" is, we had it.

Meanwhile, my poor friend was still trapped in the circle of insurance agents, fighting for his life. He eventually learned the last great lesson of a Match Stir event: don't be afraid to politely cut bait.

The night ended on a high note when Kristen gave me her number. We've been hanging out ever since. We laugh at the same things and have the same laid-back attitude. Our tastes in music are a bit of a train wreck, but everything else is going great.

So, if you're thinking about a Match event, go for it. Just know you'll meet all kinds of people: the good, the bad, and the climbers.

Stir Events by Match.com: It's like online dating, but with shittier Wi-Fi

I went to a singles event in a quest for love—or at least, a good blog post. The night started with all the usual suspects: drunk college kids, a pack of women who looked like they were on a mission, and a hilarious moment I'm still not over involving two wheelchairs. Everything was going great until I came face-to-face with the last person I ever expected to see. What happened next wasn't just awkward; it was a full-blown dating disaster.

The concept was simple: Match.com rents out a room at a nice bar, fills it with single people, and gets them a bit tipsy.

When I arrived, I was relieved to see the room wasn’t a total sausage fest. My “7th Grade Dance” theory was debunked—everyone was already mingling.

The Highlights Reel:

• My favorite moment: A woman asked a guy in a wheelchair, "Are you two here together?" while he was on the opposite side of the room. Pure comedy.

• The crowd: A normal collection of drunk college kids, a pack of women who seemed to be conducting interviews, and everyone else who was already well on their way to being shit-house drunk.

• The Strategy: I just went up and talked to women directly. Knowing they were single was a huge confidence boost. If a conversation died, it was easy to just move on to the next person.

Then came the unfortunate twist. I saw my friend’s girlfriend. She made it clear she didn't remember me and said she was there to meet "new guys."

Fuck.

I texted my friend:

Me: "I'm at a singles event, and your lady is here."

Him: "Tell her I said hi."

After a quick bathroom break, I found her again.

"Hey, I know you," I said. "I'm Joe…"

She remembered me instantly. After a few expletives, she stammered, "You aren't going to tell him, are you?"

I said nothing.

"I'm just here for moral support," she offered.

(I stare blankly...ok, I blinked some probably)

"I told him I was in Grand Rapids," she tried. "I just didn't say why…"

I looked her straight in the eye and said, "You're cooked."

I paid my tab and left. I didn’t find love, but I did a solid for a friend. All in all, a success.

I hope the wheelchair people ended up rubbing wheels tonight.