The Strangest Bar in Town

Online dating in a real high street bar

Imagine, for a moment, that the peculiar world of online dating was transformed into an actual bar. A physical establishment where everything that happens behind the comforting anonymity of a smartphone suddenly takes place in full public view.

It would be quite a spectacle.

You'd see men approaching women, politely introducing themselves, only to be met with complete silence. Not rejection, you understand. That would require acknowledgement. No, these women would simply stare straight through them, as though they'd momentarily ceased to exist.

Scattered around the room would be women standing in carefully rehearsed poses, strategically positioned beneath flattering lighting, desperately attempting to conceal the very insecurities the rest of us probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.

Naturally, there would be men wandering around topless, flexing muscles that may or may not have existed quite so prominently a decade earlier. Occasionally, one would disappear outside to stand provocatively beside his freshly polished sports car, hoping that an impressive piece of German engineering might compensate for a less impressive conversational repertoire.

Near the entrance, you'd find groups of enthusiastic friends and relatives physically pushing reluctant newcomers through the doors. Apparently, everyone knows someone who knows someone who thinks they should get out more.

In one corner, an entire gathering of devoted animal lovers would be so thoroughly engrossed in their dogs that they would fail to notice the existence of another human being. Which rather raises the question of why they came to the bar in the first place.

Along the back wall would stand a peculiar collection of men proudly displaying dead fish. Some enormous, others rather less impressive. Each would hold his unfortunate aquatic victim aloft, apparently convinced that evidence of his ability to extract a carp from a lake constitutes an irresistible mating ritual.

The bar would, of course, attract its fair share of eccentrics, oddballs and individuals who probably shouldn't be allowed near an unsupervised internet connection.

And then, in another corner, you'd discover a gathering of seemingly ordinary people. Reasonably attractive, articulate, employed, and apparently capable of sustaining an adult conversation.  You might even feel a little hopeful.

Until you noticed that most were attempting to conduct six conversations simultaneously, discreetly checking over each other's shoulders to see whether someone more interesting had just entered the room.

Every so often, an elderly gentleman in a grubby grey trench coat would wander past, opening it to expose himself indiscriminately to unsuspecting women.

Nobody would appear particularly surprised.  The management would occasionally remove him, only for him to reappear twenty minutes later wearing a different hat. 

And yet, amid all this extraordinary theatre, something rather remarkable would occasionally happen.  Two people would find themselves talking.  Not performing. Not calculating. Not scanning the room for better alternatives.  Just talking.

They'd laugh, discover something unexpected about one another, and perhaps forget, momentarily, that they were standing in the strangest bar imaginable.  It would be an exceptionally rare occurrence. Which is rather peculiar, considering the bar proudly advertises itself as somewhere you'll only ever need to visit once.

Yet somehow, you keep finding yourself back at the same bar, sitting on the same stool, wondering whether tonight might be different.

And after a while, even the barman knows your name.