The Invisible Single?

I nearly decided to sneak out, but reconsidered when I decided it might be a bit rude. So, instead, I sat almost as far back with as many blank seats around me as I could. An hour before I was beeming with the prospect of attending this "singles sunday school class" to make new friends (most of mine have all moved). Who knew? Maybe even Mr. Right would be there ... I had heard this group was teeming with 20-somethings. Right, who knew? I sure didn't. Upon opening the door to the class, many divorced 50-year-old faces glanced over my way. Quickly scanning the room I discovered I was the youngest one there--and I'm 26! Nearly everyone there was either old enough to be my parent, and, quite a few, even my grandparents. I immediately wished I had Miss Incredible's invisibility powers ...

Making it through the entire service with only a couple of older folk introducing themselves to me, I began to quietly, yet swiftly, make my way to the door, when a voice over the loud speaker filled the room, the brunt of it seeming to move with me. "Oh! I forgot...do we have any visitors?" Only five feet from the door I wasn't sure whether or not I really had to raise my hand, but then every eye turned on me. Crumination! I slowly slipped my hand slighly above my head with a hesitant stinting my face. I was quickly handed a piece of paper so that they could collect all of my information and folks from all around bidded their welcome. "Sneak in more often," one said. "We have a lot of fun here!" Now, I LOVE older folks, but don't want to consistently hang out with a group of them just with the intention to hang loose. As mentors, second moms, neighbors, one-on-one friends or wise church women, that's great. That's wonderful and valuable! I'm sure these singles are great people, but personally I'd rather volunteer with the church's high school group to have fun that way. Immediately following the piece of paper incident, the voice on the loud speaker informed me that they were going to take me out to Chevy's for lunch since it was my first time there. Since this time I at least wasn't wearing loud clomping clod hoppers like I was the last time I tried sneaking through a church service, I decided to politely make my exit ...