Neither an Event nor an Adventure. But damn funny.

Herewith, a guest post of sorts.

My youngest sibling moved to Vancouver somewhat recently after a few years abroad.  As he works from home and his siblings are old people with kids – who hang out with people with kids, he figured he’d join a social/singles club in an effort to branch out and meet people.

On particular club’s website (I won’t link – I’ll let you google it yourself lest I get my brother in trouble), they bill the experience as “When you are at an Events and Adventures event, it doesn’t seem like dating. When you’re having an adventure, all you want to do is share the experience. There’s no better way to meet someone new.”

Right-o.

Please do yourself a favour and read firsthand what this latest adventure delivered.  He emailed this to me and I asked his permission to post.  I may or may not have been cry-laughing at his expense/with him.  Enjoy.

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Outing: Seawall Cycling – Science World to Spanish Banks (approx. 13.5 KM)

Event /Adventure / Other (Specify): Other – waste of fucking time

Participation: 6 – 3 Dudes, 3 ladies

Median Age: 40

Average Looks: 4/10 (generous)

Descriptions:

1x recumbent bike cyclist

2x Canadian Tire Bikes (users did not know how to shift gears)

1 x Woman riding her daughter’s pink bike with flares on handle bars

1 x Spandex Guy, complete with heart rate monitor and clipless pedals

Success level (Select one):

Success

Meh (Check)

Failure

Unmitigated fucking disaster

Report: 

After last week’s unmitigated disaster (Trivia Night), I decided to give Single’s Club another shot, and signed up for a bike round along Vancouver’s Seawall. This is one of the gems of the city, and as tonight was a warm, sunny spring evening, and I was riding my own getaway vehicle, I figured, what the heck. I paid a hefty, non-refundable fee for the privilege.

Arrived at departure point approx. 15 minutes ahead of time for recon purposes. Immediately observed Spandex Guy and Flare Handle bars at designated meeting point. Chose to hang back and see if there was any hope. Any hope at all.

5 minutes ahead of departure, with no other cyclist approaching, decided to step in. Immediately accosted by Flarebars, who needs help with her helmet. Poor thing had no idea which way is meant to face forward. Sigh. Spandex guy was of course, the group host.

Next on scene is Recumbent Cycle Guy who literally circled the group and honked his old-timey “bocket socket!” type horn. Awesome. Up next is Canadian Tire Bike Guy. Riding a sweet full suspension SuperCycle, he proceeded to extol the virtues of his “sweet ride” (his words), reminding us at least 4 time that it cost him $700 (Note: how does one get ripped off on a Canadian Tire bike?). Finally, Canadian Tire Girl arrives, basically dressed for a mid-winter ride (read: ski goggles & scarf). In her defense, she lost the goggles when we started).

Bringing the total to 6 people including myself, Spandex quickly assess that we are 3 short of the registered participation – a whopping 9 people!! Clearly, the membership of Events & Adventures are a lively bunch, up for anything – Fucking Trivia Night had 2.5x the turn-out!

We delay departure an additional 10 minutes in the faintest hope of more people joining us, meanwhile, the majority of the group chat like old friends – literally referencing how much fun this ride was last spring. My assessment is that if the group’s membership have A) known each other for a year B) are return customers year-on-year, the system is fundamentally flawed.

We finally depart heading West. Average speed is hovering around 7 km/h. I can literally ride and compose the first section of this report on my phone simultaneously.

Canadian Tire Crew weave erratically between the much better-looking general public who are riding bikes, jogging, and skateboarding on the path like normal people. Spandex is alternating between leading and tail-gunning in order, I can only assume, to maintain a modicum of group morality, as conversation has ceased entirely, replaced instead with heavy breathing and much complaining about the rest of the public on the path.

Canadian Tire Bike Girl (goggles safely stowed) opens a dialogue with me at Cambie Street. I mention that I lived in London, UK – yes, I specified UK – for a couple of years. She seizes upon this tidbit with the enthusiasm of a shipwreck victim, as she too lived in London for 18 years! Finally, someone to chat with, methinks, naively optimistic! She proceeds to pepper me with leading questions. Within minutes, she realizes yes, I said London UK, not London ON, and between that, her inability to both cycle and converse simultaneously, and her laboured breathing, the conversation dies a painful, awkward death.

I sprint (roughly 9km/h) to Spandex Guy, having contrived an excuse whereby I don’t have my wallet on me, I want to duck out early to see if it is at home or if it might have accidentally fallen out of my pocket. The group halts, thankfully, I am sure, given the intense perspiration and heaving, slumped bodies. I bid them a fine evening. See you next time.

Analysis: 

While not the Unmitigated Fucking Disaster of Trivia Night, I conclude that I will simply go ride my bike along the seawall sans the encumbrance of these this group of semi-functional sociopaths.

I also stop at the liquor store on the way home for a bottle of wine.

Next Steps:

Friday evening is pub night. With the mean of the 2 events hovering at failure, I have concluded I have nothing to lose, and will attend as a last-ditch effort. If all else fails, I may drink too much and read them this report.

Epilogue, February 2015

I am pleased to report that the author now has a lovely girlfriend, no thanks WHATSOEVER to this stupid group.