It seems an awful lot of folks over the age of 30 here in Marin, are already hitched and producing offspring. Maybe I live too close to one of the best playgrounds in Marin, or perhaps my tendency to be drawn to swings, has me in close proximity more often, with the multitudes of procreating Marinites. But it seems this county population tips towards more fully forged families.
I’m sure Marin has some kind of thriving 30 something singles scene, but I haven’t found it. So far, it seems San Francisco offers more opportunities for singles to meet and carrouse with other Bay Area singles. SO… Perhaps this is a good place to start a little conversation among singles in Marin, to figure out what Marin has to offer, in the way of dating (or being single). I’ll start:
I was in SF three days in a row this week, working (one sunny afternoon at Zeitgeist, oh to be freelance among other seemingly single freelancers who also use Zeitgeist as an informal office space), visiting old friends, and yes, shacking up with a new friend who had lured me into his urban dwelling with an incredible homemade pasta dinner. (btw – If you’re going to crash in the city, it’s awfully nice to do it near the Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market.) It was fantastic, I had a full few days of urban distractions, but was definitely ready to come back to Marin yesterday to soak up the sun and be away from the sounds of traffic.
So last night, I did want to get out, but also lay low, and see my new favorite local band, Vinyl. They were playing at Rancho Nicasio. The sound was great, and the band was spot on (despite the trumpet player’s illness, poor guy). But it was a little strange, that the staff at the Rancho couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with a single girl – where to seat me? – in room filled with tables set for 4 or more? Several times I was asked by various staff – was I expecting friends?
Yeesh, can’t a girl go out to see live music, dance even, without friends? Clearly, some people aren’t as comfortable, being alone in a room with paired up people. An older man I was certain was from the East Coast (his swept back grey hair, houndstooth jacket, sweater and striped shirt ensemble pinned him as such in my East-leaning mind) kept looking over his shoulder at me from where he was sitting at another table.
I sent him my best “stay-over-there” vibes but he deflected them. He came over and asked if he could sit down… as he sat down. I directed him to a chair that wasn’t serving as my foot rest and said, “Um, sure.” He was nice enough, interesting enough, and he generously bought me a drink. But it shifted my energy, from one of relaxation, and respite from a nutty couple of nights in the city, to one of obligatory conversation in a room where all I really wanted to hear was the music.
He asked me to dance. I said no. But he didn’t like to dance alone! I assured him it was a great night to try. He actually appreciated my being frank, and we were able to forge a friendly connection. I cheered him on, while he danced among the other dancing Marinites. He asked why an attractive, clearly intelligent, self-actualizing woman like myself was there alone. I told him straight up, “because I wasn’t alone the last two nights.” (Which reminds me to note – my 30’s have brought a very freeing ability to say whatever the heck I want, and do what I want, without having to explain myself to anyone but myself.)
Who knows, maybe if the person who sat down next to me, had been some 30-something hottie with a penchant for all things I adore – music, motorcycles, building, design, organic foods, running, travel, road trips…someone I could imagine going out with on another night, I would have felt less distracted by the company. But regardless, sometimes, sitting alone in a crowded room, surrounded by beautifully dissonant horn sounds, quick keyboarding, fast guitars and rapid drum rhythms, in a little ranch, beneath a nearly full moon in Marin, is a perfectly singular thing.
