Bulls and Dating

At dinner this evening, my grandfather mentioned to me that his wife's parents would like me and him to attend church with them. He saw the look I gave him, as we've previously discussed the option of attending church. "Well, there's a guy . . . "

All I could do was laugh.

Two nights previous, my grandparents had attempted to make a list of eligible bachelors that they would give their stamp of approval to. Long story short, it's a short list. I'm not even sure there are five names on it.

Now, I moved here knowing that Sticksville is not the hopping dating scene. It wasn't like I was having much better luck in a city of over 400,000 people. But then, I don't really care for bar scenes. Considering I'm not much of a drinker, bars just don't appeal to me. I'm not very forward when it comes to dating, either. I'm quite shy. Plus, if a guy comes up to me, I assume he's drunk. Here's why:

Only one guy that has ever asked for my number or hit on me was stone cold sober. That I know of. I have been known to be a wee bit dense sometimes and totally miss that some random guy is making eyes at me, or even attempting to flirt with me. While I don't consider myself a dog, I know I'm not gorgeous. I consider myself somewhere in the pretty category. I'm not including what I look like when I first wake up, because well . . . that would not help my cause at all.

Pretty much every guy who has come up to me on their own volition (minus Subway Guy), was drunk. Or some variation of drunk. The first time was in college, at the Brickworks. A couple guys asked me to dance, but I was loyal to my long distance boyfriend at the time, and didn't dance with any guys. One of these guys was quite drunk, and I finally had to send him on his way because he was starting to freak me the fuck out. More recently, I was hanging out with some friends in a bar in Cottonwood (I have a friend who is a bartender there), and one of my good friends basically threw my ass under the bus and I had no idea. Needless to say, two guys who had had several beers hit on me in a matter of minutes. I knew it was going to happen the second I walked in the door, by the way they looked at me. You know that sinking feeling in your gut? Yeah, I had that.

One guy used some lame ass line about his lonely dog. And was old enough to be my dad. I do have an age limit guys. The second guy kept telling my friend how beautiful I was . . . I was sitting right next to him. Then he finally turned to me and told me how was he was Army and I'm sure felt that I was supposed to be impressed. I thanked him for serving our country, but I had just gotten out of a relationship with a Marine, and I really didn't want to get into another relationship with a (drunk) military guy. I even put my giant ring on my left hand to maybe hint to him that I wasn't available. Nope. Didn't help. Plus my friend wasn't fully helping my cause either. In the end, it wasn't me that got rid of him, it was another gal we were hanging out with, who by chance is ex-Marine. Apparently all she had to do was call him a "ditch digger" and after exchanging a few words, he finally left. When he was leaving the bar, he "offered" me another chance . . . which I politely declined. And drowned myself in Diet Coke.

The sober guys that I dated were set-ups. Either blind dates or via my attempt at Internet dating. And in some cases, them being sober might be one of the few nice things I could say.

So, when I moved to Sticksville, I knew that my meeting someone would probably have to be through my grandparents and their connections. When I went on the paper delivery routes with my grandfather, he (a few times) would mention (not so slyly) that I was single and for whomever he was talking to to keep their eyes open for a nice eligible bachelor. Only slightly embarrassed was I. But I took it all in stride.

My grandparents have mentioned the church thing a couple times in my presence. Neither of them attend church, but they do know the pastor. They've told me that it's mostly an older congregation, but I could meet someone that knows someone who might be single and you know, set me up. I've been joking with them that they are now trying to pimp me out.

I'm not fully against attending church. I've actually never attended church. I really don't want to start a religion issue on my blog, but I am allowed to post my feelings. I'm not necessarily a religious person. I don't like the guilt that most religions put on their congregations. In my mind, you simply cannot live without sinning. And the fact that I have to confess my sins to a priest, or pray to God for forgiveness is slightly disturbing to me. I try to be a good person - I respect my elders and my peers; I give to charities however I can, when I can; I don't break laws (okay, I do go over the speed limit . . .); and I believe in the Golden Rule. I cuss, I occasionally take the Lord's name in vain, I do drink alcohol sometimes, and I have spoken ill of others.

I do not appreciate having religion sold or forced onto me, however. I don't believe I will go to Hell for not attending church. If there is a God, I cannot accept that He is that fucking picky.

So the idea of me attending church, even once or twice, actually scares me. I'm afraid of religion being pushed onto me, even when assured no one will do so. And it's slightly weird, knowing that you're invited partly to introduce you to folks who might be able to set you up with some guy they know.

And here's something else my grandfather said to me today, while I was in the round-feeder (which I gracefully fell into on my ass this morning because I lost my footing with muddy boots. Thank God there was hay to break my fall) cutting twine off bales of hay for the small herd of young bulls: "These bulls sure are fascinated by you! Have you ever received so much male attention?"

Sadly, my answer was to laugh and reply "No, I haven't!"

So, right now, the only males that I'm aware of that are, in fact, "fascinated" by me, are cows.

At least they're cute. Right?