It's fucking 4:00 on a Friday, and I have no plans for the evening. This blows. Not unusual, I have had several "nothing to do" Fridays since I became single. I have many friends around the world, but none local really. The few I had here, were my exe's friends spouses, which I lost in the divorce along with the dog.

Sometimes, friends visit. Microsoft has a local training facility that often brings them to town and we'll hang out. We'll hit a few bars, have a few drinks and have a great time. Bars can be fun, I'm gonna go anyway, by myself and check it out. I mean this is how people met before online dating right?

4:30, time for a shower. As part of my transition to Singledom, I replaced my entire wardrobe. It started with a pair of $800 Salvatore Ferragamo shoes. I walked in and out of Neiman Marcus four times before I rationalized that I deserved them. It's amazing what a pair of shoes can lead to. I finally understand why women love shoes... it creates a need to buy clothes to go with them.

Imagining my coming evening, I carefully select an outfit from my growing wardrobe of designers, many of whom I have never heard of. I have my limits. I bought a great looking black leather jacket from Armani with just a small "tasteful" insignia on the front pocket. It was not until I got home and looked at it closer, that I saw the ARMANI EXCHANGE emblazoned across the back in 4" letters. Lesson learned, look at both sides before you buy.

Of course my outfit has to start with my brown Ferragamo loafers. I add some black skinny jeans, and a black shirt with light printed things on it... flowers maybe? I'll top it off with a brown leather jacket that I searched for to match the shoes. A spritz of YSL cologne, and I'm off. As I am riding down the elevator to the parking garage, I realize that it is not even 5 yet... fuck. No turning back now.

Sitting in my reserved parking spot, on the fourth level of the garage, is my 2019 Jeep Grand Cherokee. It's a fine car, but brings back bad memories every time I see it. It was not the car I was going to get. Still married when I bought it, my ex pitched a fit about me spending too much on a car that I seldom drive. Fuck it, I was going to get the Land Rover Velar anyway... she had a Mercedes! But on my way to the dealership, I imagined her being pissed for weeks, and rationalized that she was probably right. Instead, I turned into the Jeep dealership. We split shortly after, and now, stuck in a lease, I regret not getting the Land Rover.

As I circle my way out of the parking deck, I plug my phone into Carplay and scan my messages. Nope... nobody pinging me last minute to do something. Damn it's fucking early... but Happy Hours start soon! As I reach the garage exit, I realize that I had not thought about where to go. I pull up Yelp on my car screen to do a search. Beeeep!!! Damn, somebody trying to get out behind me, I wave and pull out to the right and pull into an empty spot on the street.

"Best Bar for Singles" I type into Yelp. It returns a bunch of clubs in Ybor for the 20 somethings. Ugh. “Best Bar for Older Singles"... same results, seriously! Damn... where have I seen single women... got it... Capital Grille at International Mall. I pull out and head off, picturing this nice bar full of gorgeous single women.

5:30. Wow, the mall is packed. I pull into the valet line and wait my turn, fully aware now that I am not in a Land Rover. "Will you be dining at Capital Grille this evening?" says the valet. "Yeah, something like that" I reply and toss him the key fob thingy.

It's still light out, but walking through the door of the restaurant I’m thrown into darkness, remembering the bar is to the left, I start heading that way as my eyes adjust. Good news, it's packed! Bad news, there is no open bar seat. As I walk the length of the bar, looking to see if anyone is cashing out, I notice that there seems to be a lot of couples. I see a women at the end reaching down for her shopping bag, so I scurry over as quick as I can. Another guy is coming in from the other direction, eyeing the same spot. Looks like he's gonna beat me. Wait, a waiter crossed his path and slowed him down just enough, as I slide in acting like I was unaware of him.

"Can you make a decent Manhattan?" I ask the attractive, yet about 8 months pregnant, bartender. "I sure do" she says with a big smile, already turning on the pre-tip charm. "Done" I said, as she turned to start making it. With a seat secured and drink on the way, I nonchalantly look around the bar. Couple, Couple, Couple, Gay Couple, Group of Guys who are already drunk. Bingo! There's a couple of women at a high top table that look nice. Ah, crap... wedding rings. I continue scanning.

"Hey, can you solve an argument for us" I hear over my shoulder. I turn, assuming it's just someone talking loud, and realize it's a woman, asking me this question. I did not notice her before... maybe she was in the restroom. She's pretty... but maybe a little drunk. Why is everybody drunk already? "This guy says I am a Bitch, wadda you think?" she slurs. I am reminded of my ex, who was great up to two drinks, but went downhill from there. It's amazing what that one-drink-too-many can do to a woman. I smile, and let out a chuckle. "Seriously! I wanna answer." she presses. A head behind her starts to come in into a view that she had eclipsed with hers. Of course, it had to be the guy I beat out for the seat. He seems curious to hear my answer also. "I'm sure you are not a bitch" I say, my eyes darting from her to him, hoping that was a good enough answer. My drink arrives and the woman looks at it, then stares at me, eyes clearly glazed, and says "Asshole", and turns back to the guy. I'm thinking to myself... you're a bitch alright.

A short while later the "Bitch" and the "too-slow" guy leave... thankfully... it was awkward. I was about to ask for my check, but I guess I'll hang around for a bit now. Looking towards the front door, I see two attractive women heading in. One of them catches my gaze, and holds it for a longer time than expected, then smiles. Okay, this is a good sign, and thankfully they sit right next to me in the now vacant seats. I decide I will try and say something, but think maybe I'll wait until they have ordered their drinks. The one who caught my gaze and smiled, is sitting right next to me, which seems perfect, but then I realize she has her back turned because she is talking to her friend. I continue to play it cool, looking up, pretending like I give a shit about the game on the TV. I notice their drinks arrive out of the corner of my eye.

I wait for a lull in their conversation, so as not to interrupt. Then I turn and say "Is that the chocolate Martini?" pointing at one of their drinks. The other woman, two seats over, facing my direction says "Do you fucking mind? We're here to relax, not get hit on." The one who smiled turns towards me now. She does not say anything, but rolls her eyes in sort of an apology for her friend's snap. She turns back, and I am thinking, I wished she had come alone, instead of with Ms. Cockblocker.

Alone... yes duh... I scan the bar again looking for a woman who is alone. Of course there are none. I guess that might look either desperate, or pathetic, so I can see why a woman would not go out to bar alone. Then I ponder myself sitting there... alone... what the hell do I look like? This is way easier with friends. You clearly have a purpose when you are with friends... what is your purpose in a bar by yourself? I am not having fun, and suddenly feel very weird sitting here by myself. I focus on the game on TV, as though that was my real purpose in being here. Of course, there's the final whistle, the game is over.

"Check please" I mouth, while making the air check sign to the bartender down the bar. She nods and brings it quickly. I drop a twenty and get up to leave. The girl next to me notices my movement and turns towards me. I smile, she returns the smile with a shrug, then turns back to her friend who had increased her volume to regain her attention. We were just two ships passing in the night, never to see each other again.

Exiting the restaurant, I decide to walk down the aisle of bars and restaurants leading to the mall entrance. They are all packed. I think about going into one and look at my watch, it's 8:30. I am reminded of the definition of an insane person, doing the same thing and expecting a different result. I turn on my $800 heels, and head back to the valet stand.

I have been on a few dates from dating sites, enough to realize that even a bad date is better than this. My car pulls up and I walk around handing the driver a fiver which he looks at. Was it not enough? I mean it was two minutes of your time dipshit. If I could reach it, I would snatch it back, but instead I slide in and pull away.

8:45 on Friday night. All dressed up and nowhere to go. I guess I'll just go home and watch TV.