"Talk at you later"

No, folks, I do not actually talk like that. No need to correct me.

On Valentine's Day a handful of singletons and I went to -- drumroll please -- a singles event.

Yes, I know, great googly moogly, what was I thinking!

It was a party put together by one of my favorite clubs. Though their advertising was a little vague I had jumped to conclusions and assumed that it was one of those nifty fetes were they loan you Blackberries to text message potential lurve interests. Not so! Instead, they gave us stickers with a number to slap onto our bods somehow, somewhere. And during the night you could come to the booth and leave handwritten messages for those you were interested in.

Yeah, I never bothered seeing if anyone had left me a message. Nor did I leave any messages for others.

We were a varied crew. Some were excited about the potential for the evening, some were excited about the assumed Blackberry-ness of it all (oh, the trouble one could get into sending strangers bizarre messages!), while others were mortified to be dragged to a "singles event." Needless to say, the latter seemed quite relieved when nothing became of the evening.

"Disappointment" sums it up nicely. No Blackberries. Everyone else was in groups just like mine. I couldn't even make the best of the evening and dance. Being that it was a "school night" we left before midnight seeing as the night was completely bunk. We toughed it out for more than 2 hours and they had not even opened up the dance floor by the time we left. Ugh.