Horseback Riding

As most of you know, I went horseback riding a few weeks ago. Many of you probably also know that it was organized by a singles group called Meet Market Adventures. And I use the word "organize" very lightly here. These jokers would've had a hard time organizing themselves out of a paper bag so it's a good thing I didn't go in with any expectations.

There were no age restrictions or male/female ratio which didn't bode well. The surprising thing is that except for two older people, everyone was generally the same age. Which is probably the best thing I could say about the crowd that showed up. Yikes. As my mom always says, for every crooked pot, there's a crooked lid. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for me, my dent was far too twisted and deep in that crowd.

After signing all the necessary waivers in blood, we finally got to business with a ridiculous ice-breaker. Imagine if you will, standing at a horse ranch in the middle of nowhere (or in this case, about 10 mins outside of Squamish) in a semblance of a circle with a bunch of - let's call a spade a spade shall we? - losers. Each of us had to pull out a question from an envelope and answer it. I felt like I was in some type of commune for the sad and weary. Or at a nudist retreat gone horribly wrong. Actually, since everyone was clothed, maybe it was right since I can't think of those people naked without gagging. Since we're being totally honest here, I really don't need a damned ice-breaker thanks. I was purposely avoiding talking to anyone who didn't drive up with me.

Forty long minutes after getting there they finally start mounting us, which took another half hour since there were 20 of us. I was one of the first to be mounted and unfortunately I had Mr. Fanny Pack sitting next to me. Sigh. I did my best to ignore him while sending out my strongest bitch vibes. Yes, I recognize that I was not approaching this whole singles thing with the right frame of mind but I tend to make snap judgements and they serve me well. As was the case here. One of the "organizers" was on the other side of me and I was talking to him for a bit. He had just moved here from Montreal and so we started talking about that city and why I went there for work. As soon as the idiot on the other side of me heard "EA" he leans over and screeches "EA SPORTS. IT'S IN THE GAME". Very clever. Like I haven't heard that one before. God. So I smile politely and say "Yeah, I guess it is but I work on some of our non-sports titles". Somehow I get stuck sitting there for 10 minutes while this guy starts by telling me that athletes can make so much money for being on a cover and imagine if we made a game on poker and having a professional poker player on the cover! He completely ignores my comment that we don't make gambling games and rambles on with a litany of names that I can only imagine are professional poker players, also known as his heros. Someone should tell this asshole that referencing a potential gambling problem isn't the way into a woman's heart.

Going back to the organizer I was talking to. Martin was a young, beautiful black man who had just moved here from Montreal. And he made it very clear that he was far too urbane for horseback riding. Being standoffish and snobby is not the best trait in a host for a singles event but the bitching about bugs, smell and lack of alcohol was starting to piss me off because we had all paid money to be there. But I had the pure unadultured pleasure of seeing him trying to mount his horse. He couldn't get on because his jeans were too tight!!! I damn near fell off my horse because I was dying of laughter and after several attempts he was all but dumped unceremoniously on the back of the horse. That alone was worth my $65!

Finally we were off and I made it a point to be between a couple of friends who had come up with me so I wouldn't have to deal with anyone else. The ride itself was fun and I remember why I love horseback riding so much.

The ride was supposed to end with a bonfire. Here's where the lack of planning was most evident. There was a group of 20 and they had a couple of 2 liter bottles of pop, three campfire popcorn packages (two which were destroyed by the manly men who wanted to pop them) and a bag of chips. Not even any marshmellows! Who the hell goes to a campfire without marshmellows!!! Luckily I had the foresight to buy a couple of huge bags before heading out or I would've pitched a fit. As it was, we hung around the fire for about 15 mins and then took off. Yes it was anti-social but you needed to see that crowd before passing judgement.

So ends my most recent foray into the singles scene. The closest I got to any action was the drunk old dude who owned the ranch - he kept wanting to hug me :(

I know that most people who actually bother to read this blog are looking for dating stories but I think I'm going on hiatus. This adventure reminded me why I'm happier on my hammock with a good book.