Is inner dialogue a sign of a lonely self?

Officially, I’ve been in Sydney 1 month. Last night I went to my first event to try to meet some new friends. I thought a pretty safe place to start would be with the Jewish Community, so I went to a young (25 – 40) professionals happy hour event. Joaquin was planning on meeting me there so I arrived alone to a large bar, with a DJ spinning some tracks and free house wine and beer for an hour.

Before I go any further know these stats:
# of people I knew* in Sydney before I arrived: 6 (including Joaquin)
# of contacts my friends have connected me to: 5
# of people I have found on my own via internet (not the scary kind of internet): 2
*knew = had met in person at least once

So, that is lucky 13? Ok, not bad, I gotta start somewhere. I think most of the ‘Rainbow’ readers who know me would agree that I am pretty outgoing, and generally enjoy chatting up strangers.

We now return to the networking event: As expected the room was buzzing with conversation, decently attractive people – the usual of what one would imagine at an event like this – people in small groups shouting at each other trying to have a normal conversation over the music. In a place where I know more than 13 people on the continent I would usually be working the room, saying hi to people I might have met a few times before, introducing friends to each other, meeting new people, catching up with friends I haven’t seen in a while, but this event in this bar feels nothing like what I know. There are some surrogates (faces that somewhat resemble people I know from a life before Oz) but it settles in that I am not in a familiar place. I grab a Chardonnay (clearly my wine of the moment) at the bar and search around the room for a good place to stand. I rule out any corners or tables against the wall with low chairs and find a tallboy table that some people are standing near in the center of the room. I take my wine to the table and ask if they mind for me to place my bag on the stool. “No worries” someone says. I think “Ok, made first contact.” I look around the room keenly aware that being totally anonymous in a room full of people is a situation I have rarely experienced. In a way I want to savor this moment. It doesn’t feel lonely, it feels special. Like knowing a secret that everyone in the room doesn’t know yet– I know what I have to offer as a potential friend and the lucky people I meet tonight don’t have a clue what might be coming to them – Perfectly content I sip my wine and try to imagine what conversations would be like with some of the people around me.
There are two guys in suits standing closest to me and I make eye contact with one of them. We smile courteously at each other and he continues a conversation with his better looking friend who I imagine to be a total A-hole.

SIDEBAR: Part of the fun of being anonymous in a room and in my brain is that I can make meaningless snap judgments (snappies) about people and there are no consequences. Now, hold your snappies towards me right there, readers…nothing would please me more than to have my negative snappies bite me in the bottom and teach me a lesson. After all, it would be duly deserved to someone who makes snappies in the first place. I shouldn’t be rewarded with true predictions about people if I am judging them negatively on their appearance alone. END OF SIDEBAR

I hear the smiling guy mention something to his friend about the fact that I have a ring on and they continue their conversation. I begin to wonder if tonight’s meeting people adventure will be more challenging than I expected. I remember to smile and look friendly, so I don’t scare away a Sydney version of Buckogirl. All of a sudden I have switched from feeling like I have something to offer everyone in the room to feeling self conscious.

I think:
---Am I at a singles event? Will people see my ring and wonder why I came to this event and not bother talking to me? How am I ever going to meet people?”

I give myself a pep talk :
---Ok, Bucko.g - you need a strategy. I need to figure out a way to break into some of these conversations. If only I had a wingman – where is Joaquin anyway?”

My mind is blank. Everything I think of sounds like it came from a book written by a socially awkward gym teacher or a creep monger.
“Hi. I thought it was time to stop being anonymous so I wanted to introduce myself.”
---NO.
“Um, do you know what time it is? Oh. So that is X more minutes until the tab is over?”
---NO.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt your likely interesting conversation to report that I just moved to Sydney and I don’t know anyone.”
---Nah – has potential, but needs a bit of editing.
“Wanna new friend?”
---what the hell is happening to me? I’m just going to stand here, look friendly and hope that someone talks to me.

So, I wait and look around the room for other people who are standing alone. I eye someone who looks like they were actually the writer of the lines above. Errr, I really hope HE doesn’t talk to me.

Eventually I met a woman who also came alone. We chatted for a bit and decided to walk about the room. I get caught by a group of 3 people who are talking about the amount of pheromones in the room. As I pass them I say “to get the sex you have to really want the sex” they laugh and ask me about my accent and I think…I AM BACK.

Last night I realized that meeting people is going to take a lot more time and effort than I hoped. I want to make the most of my time here and feel motivated to try this again. So, here is the deal: Last night, was the first of a series of social experiments I will be conducting as I place myself in situations where I don’t know anyone. I imagine that the places I hit will not always be structured events, some will be bars, some coffee shops, some stores, the gym…etc. If you have suggestions for opening lines or would like to share stories about being in a room of strangers, please feel free to post below. I will report back on my progress.

Cheers to feeling encouraged to go on with my social self and turn lucky number 13 into something that isn’t a prime. clink.