Hundred-dollar evening

Greetings, Internetizens. I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving holiday; mine was largely unremarkable. It's been a while since I had a regular Thanksgiving hang, what with people dying, marrying into other holiday groups, kicking me to the curb, or moving out of state—most of my pre-pandemic Thanksgivings going back a couple decades at least have involved being with those specific folks. This year I treated it like most any other average day, except I did cook a whole lot of food. Mexican, though, not the traditional sort of things, as turkey's been off my menu for 37 years. (Incidentally, I had a weird dream last night/this morning that I had been very hungry and ate one and a half hamburgers before realizing that I hadn't eaten a hamburger in nearly 40 years. I was disturbed by the realization and quite upset but still finished the second hamburger since at that point I had already contributed to the cow's death and throwing it in the trash would benefit nothing. It was a strange nightmare.) There will be leftovers and I will see folks over the weekend.

But Thanksgiving Eve was notable. Wednesday night I went to a speed dating event in Fremont. I'd done a couple of similar events before, but this one was by a different outfit and was a less organized, differently-structured format. I won't be trying this outfit's events again.

I met, I think, six different women, most of whom didn't register much. I mean, nice enough ladies, but I'm not prompted to try to see them again. But two were exceptions. One was someone I may or may not have umpired last summer, she is on a softball team I may have drawn on my Sunday afternoon schedule once or twice but I'm not often at the park her team plays at. But we did know people in common and our "date" consisted mostly of talking about people and experiences with the league. She evidently knows several people on my favorite team to ump, The Leftovers, so Neal, if you have any scoop on Anna from Line Drive Capital, feel free to let me know. She was fun to talk to.

The other one I haven't been able to get out of my head, and not for any good reasons.

I don't recall her actual name, but let's call her "Olive," since olives are among the most repulsive of the edible plantfoods. Olive started our mini-date asking blunt questions, which I liked, and quickly noting which of my answers were red flags, which I didn't like but found interesting. My never having been married was a red flag. My interest in science-fiction was a red flag. OK. When I told her one of my "red flags" was voting behavior or lack thereof, she revealed that she was a Trumper.

She did so in a kind of exaggerated fashion, too, going on about how the Democrats suck and Kamala Harris was useless. In the moment, I was, frankly, dumbfounded. I of course know these people exist—we're going to be very shortly living in a world that 70 million such folks willed into being with cruelty and ignorance—and that I'd inescapably encounter them in the wild, but I hadn't expected to run into one—a female one, no less—in "The People's Republic of Fremont, Center of the Universe." Clearly she traveled in for the event from somewhere else, but still.

I was so stunned that I thought she might be doing a bit, some sort of comedic performance art wherein she plays a character, Colbert Report-style, of some sort of cross between Victoria Jackson and Ron Swanson. So I interrupted her and asked, "are you doing a bit?" She was somewhat offended and said no, she was deadly serious, and had I ever seen Robert F. Kennedy Jr. speak? which just reinforced my impression that she must be doing a bit. Sadly, she was not.

I was so gobsmacked that this outwardly attractive middle-aged woman was on the inside either a mean-spirited hateful racist or a cognitively deficient rube (or both) that when she challenged me to explain why I or anyone would ever vote for Kamala Harris I hesitated for what felt like many seconds before diving in to policy matters. She then said how Harris was "horrible on the border," without answering my reply of "in what way did she do anything negative regarding the border since that wasn't really in her portfolio as VP," and went on to explain how vaccines are dangerous and that the worst thing Kamala Harris ever did was visit a Planned Parenthood office, which I assume refers to a campaign stop but might have been some sort of right-wing propaganda I missed that said she'd had abortions or something. I didn't ask.

"Are you sure you're not doing a bit? Because you've been hitting all the satire points pretty hard." She just told me that I was "obviously quite ignorant" and I laughed. Hopefully in a fashion that was clearly I'm laughing at you, not at your sense of humor since you are not doing a bit. She returned the conversation to RFK Jr. and her strong belief in "informed consent" and started talking about how parents shouldn't have to vaccinate their children because not everyone exposed to a virus will get sick. I asked if she saw any irony in believing in informed consent when she was so steadfastly opposed to being informed and she told me I would see she was right when Trump fixes health care. I laughed again. She said she was a doctor and knew what she was talking about and I laughed harder and said I'd never before met a "doctor" that was pro-polio. Then our phones beeped with the text notification that it was time to move on to the next speed date. I said, "All right, Olive, good luck," and moved on, she replied "good luck to you too," and I suspect each of us was not talking about speed dating. I know I meant "good luck getting through your life being a ripe mark for con artists and it'll serve you right if you become destitute and find yourself in the middle of a measles outbreak in the coming hellscape." She might have meant something similar.

After the event I left the bar and walked back to my car to find I'd inadvertently parked in a restricted-by-residential-permit zone and had a ticket on my windshield. What a capper.

So factoring in the ticket, an eleven-dollar mocktail, and the fee for the event, my evening cost me more than $100. Can't say it was money well spent.

If I do more of these speed dating things they will not be with this company, which claims to have a special algorithm to match you to "compatible dates" but clearly just says that for marketing purposes and has no such selectivity involved. Better to go back to the other outfit that makes no bones about it being random, you meet whoever signs up. (The events put on by the other folks also feed you as part of the fee rather than saddle you with a minimum bar purchase, so there's that.)

At least talking with Anna was pleasant. If nothing else, I may see her on the field next year.