I'm really beginning to resent things.

When I lived in Texas my life consisted mostly of working Monday through Friday, with an occasional Saturday. I was single. My weekends were spent chatting with some friends on instant messenger or maybe going out to the local country bar, which really meant I'd drink as much as I could, as fast as I could in order to tolerate the music.

Now I live in Wisconsin. Still doing the Monday through Friday gig, but no weekend duty for a change! Instead of sitting at home, I go to the local pubs to try and reconnect with old friends I haven't seen in nearly a decade. Most weekends I'm successful.

Not all that long ago I thought what I needed to do was go out and try to hook up, and whatever happens, happens. Lately I've been thinking that instead of trying to hook up, maybe I need to think long term. I still think this is probably the best course of action, but it presents a couple dilemmas. Truthfully, I go out to drinking establishments to hang out with the boys. I don't like to dance and I'm way too shy to make a legitimate advance on a woman at the bar. I'm way more comfortable talking to women in 100 other places than a bar. Women have come to expect the same old crap from the guys when they are out at the bar, and more often than not, they are just out to have fun with their friends, not become a product in the meat-market. Because of this, guys like me are at a distinct disadvantage. Take tonight for example:

I'm sitting at the bar, talking with some guys. The DJ is doing his thing in the corner. People are dancing. I'm not one of them. I notice this girl sort of off in the corner, I'd say about 5'5:, 130lbs, long blond hair, and she's not looking like she's excited to be there. She was dressed like she wanted to be there. She didn't look slutty or anything, had the right combination of top and skirt going on, but her body signals were screaming that she all was not well. Perhaps that's what threw me off. She was standing in the corner, taking things in. She wasn't locked onto anything in particular, had a look of boredom on her face, and had her arms crossed. I don't even think she was drinking anything, and she was with an older woman. It almost certainly wasn't her mother. Perhaps a co-worker or an aunt maybe? In retrospect, this was probably another reason that threw me off.

So, to recap: A woman that I found to physically attractive, probably needing a drink, and probably looking for someone to talk to, didn't get any of the above from me. I couldn't pull the trigger. I don't know why I couldn't. I told myself on a couple of occasions that I should, but I never did.

At this point, I'm mostly bored and thinking now is as good as any time to head for home. It's well before the bars close, and I don't have to worry about police harassment. I'm standing there working on my beer when I see another girl walk into the bar. Things are a little different this time, because I know this one. Her name is Shannon, and I've known her since I was in 3rd grade. Shannon is probably about 2-3 inches taller than I am, real slender with blonde hair that's now cut to about shoulder length. When she smiles she can light up a room. To this day I still can't figure out why she never tried to be a model. With her features, I'm almost certain she would've been successful. She might not have reached supermodel stardom, but how many do? I bumped into her my second weekend back in town, so there was no reason for any sort of overjoyous reunion tonight, but when I saw her walk in with one of her friends, I made my way through the crowd to say hello. Immediately the hello is returned, she puts her arm around me, I put my arm around her, and I ask her how things are, does she need a drink, stuff like that. She tells me no, her friend is already getting the drinks, so I converse with her for a few minutes until her drink arrives. I decide one more beer won't hurt anything, so I make my way to the counter to get another and I bullshit with the guys, taking particular amusement with some poor fella, apparently having a bachelor party. He's walking around the bar with a chain padlocked to his leg, with a bowling ball attached to the other end of the chain. For a moment, I sort of felt sorry for the guy, because with the padlock, there is no escape for him. I also wonder to myself if he knows what he's getting into. I finish my beer, say bye to the guys and make my way back over to Shannon to say goodbye. With a look bordering on disbelief, she grabs my arm and asks why I'm leaving. I tell her I've been here for a couple hours and I'm sort of bored. Long pause. I'm standing there looking at her, waiting for a reason not to leave. I'm waiting for her to give me a reason not to leave. Finally she agrees, it's a pretty boring night but isn't really saying much. She looks over at her friend who was talking to some other people, then looks back at me. I was thinking to myself "perhaps another time". I think she was having similar thoughts. I sort of nod to her, and she says how good it was to see me again, like it had been months or years, but actually I drank with her all last Saturday night. I start making my way out of the bar, and I realize that I don't have her number. I decided not to go back and ask for it because that seems overly eager, and I know I'll see her next weekend. When I do, I'm getting her number and I'll see if I can set something up with her, lunch perhaps?

So there ya go. Two reasons I should still be at the bar, but I'm not. Why? I don't know. I'm irritable, I'm agitated, and I don't know what else. I'm like a ship without a rudder, I have no direction. It's probably because I still haven't heard from my kids yet. There is no reason, other than spite, in which I shouldn't have heard from them yet. I'm getting homicidal over this. Probably 2nd degree, because nothing is premeditated. I don't care what anyone says. Yeah, I know it's not like the kids are going to forget about me anytime soon, but they are too young to know that it isn't my fault they haven't heard from me. Every day that they go without hearing from me, seeing me, or looking at me moves me closer and closer to being out of their lives.

I hate it. I hate it for them and I hate it for me.

And I'm really beginning to resent things.