I did not wait for New Year’s to try something different. I tackled it in November and found that it was not for me.

Friendships have gotten harder to achieve.  There are multiple reasons for this.  Covid changed our social interactions.  By your mid-forties you are supposed to be married with kids and neither of those are true for me.  My church is made up of a wide range of age groups.  Writing and reading are insular hobbies.  And being an introvert means that interacting with others takes energy (whereas extroverts get energy from being around people.)

Coworkers have moved on to different jobs.  Friends move to less expensive towns.  People prioritize spouses and kids over old acquaintances.  (The nerve.  The unmitigated gall.  Such temerity.)  I cannot be in too much of a minority here or Timeleft would not exist.

Timeleft is a program that puts six people at one dinner table.  You are allowed to bring a plus one and there is no guarantee that you will not have met your companions before.  However, the idea is that half a dozen people from various backgrounds, mixed genders, and similar age-range, will gather around a table and engage in conversation.  Their purpose is to create new friendships.

I had pondered the program long enough that they sent me a discount code.  I was tired of going straight home after work and plopping myself onto the couch.  I had tried stranger experiments before.  I signed up and selected a dinner for the next Wednesday.  (There are options for other nights in the week.  For me, the later in the week it is, the less patience I have.  Woe unto those who make demands on me Saturday evening.)

The biggest complaint that I had was that the dinner was always at seven.  I get off work around four thirty or five.  I can either rush to fight traffic, get home, and drive to the gathering, or I can wander around work for two hours when I have already been there for nine.  I cannot plan my transportation because they do not reveal where the gathering will be until late the night before.  I like things decided out in advance.  Not a deal breaker, but an inconvenience.

A second complaint is the number of people.  It is supposed to be you and five others.  That is the plan and that is what is stated.  The first time I went, there were five of us.  The second time, there were four.  The folks at the second dinner commented on a time when there had been three or less people in attendance. 

Part of that is Seattle’s fault.  We have become notorious for either “maybe”-ing an RSVP, or deciding not to go at the last minute.  I do not know if we have too many commitments, or work is out of control, of if we are simply cowards.  Timeleft tries to get people to sign up as last-minute attenders when a group lacks people.  Personally, I feel that if six people are promised, six people is what should happen.  And yes, I was sorely tempted to cancel both times.  I am a morning person.  I get tired.  I saved up my energy, I made the effort, and I attended.

To their credit, they do have the types of people planned out.  Timeleft put me with people from different areas, different backgrounds, and different fields.  Tech, medicine, marketing; immigrants, locals, transplants.  The first dinner had one divorcee, a married fellow, and two singles.  The next dinner was two divorcees and a single.  Also, when folks are paying money for a subscription service and paying for a dinner, they are prone to be driven by interaction.  They are paying enough, and putting forth the effort to attend, that they want conversation.  Which means that there is always one person who will keep chatting.  Their drive to meet people prevents the table from falling into a lull.  Two hours of conversation came easily for the five of us while the hour and a half conversation with the four took a touch more effort.  But those that attended were ready to do their parts.

Two outings under my belt and it was clear that Timeleft was not for me.  I am not a foodie.  I want those in the restaurant business to be able to pay their bills.  But I cannot justify spending forty-three dollars on a bowl of pasta.  A perusal of the wine list, and their costs, made me grateful that I do not drink.  The spaghetti sandwich I had at the second outing was more to my taste.  I would have it again.  Yet that was the dinner where I was told that Americans were too concerned with whether or not executives were cheating on their wives or taking bribes and that other countries did not think such things were important.  I choked on that offering.  It was a bitter taste that had me reaching for my glass of water more than once.

I appreciate Timeleft’s approach to getting a wide group of people and how that would spark conversation.  But I know who I get along with.  If I am looking for a romantic partner, I am drawn to those in the service and caring worlds.  My best friend is a pharmacist.  I pair up with teachers, nurses, and those that spend their days attending to others.  My friends are nerds, Christians, and people that go out of their way to make the world friendlier and more accepting.  Storytellers over Fortune 500ers.  Volunteers.  I try to surround myself with people that love extravagantly.

Now, this is not a criticism of the people I dined with.  I disagreed here and there.  Yet there was no one that was a jerk.  Everyone was polite.  They all had something to bring to the table.  We chatted and everything was fine.  Just fine.  Not more than fine.  I did not have a reason to keep any touch with any of them.

If I were to continue with Timeleft, it would be to hone my social skills.  Yet, I do not think I need practice in that area. I have spent decades in the tourist industry and customer service.  I worked as a barista for many years.  I figured out social cues, attention spans, and who was simply coming for a transaction.  I know who my people are and I did not find any of them.  Nor did I feel like further outings would have changed that. 

Additionally, I have a hard time ignoring the fact that I was paying someone to find friends for me.  Visions of parents that pay a schoolmate to be friends with their kid lodged in my head.  I am fine with Timeleft being a business.  Yes, all relationships are transactional.  We need to interact with others.  We need their time and they need our attention.  I understand that.  Having a credit card charged before the relationship begins; that is too transactional for me.

People at church still take care of me.  A few of my “moved on” friends check in with me now and then.  I can still peoplewatch in coffee shops and go running in crowded parks.  I could join a writing group.  I have tried websites, applications, and services for dating, and now friendships.  None of them worked for me. 

Relationships might feel harder to come by these days.  If that remains the case, at least I get to end the day knowing who I am and what I have to offer others.  I have a reasonable amount of social skills.  I can navigate most technologies that I come across.  No cause for bragging; I get by.

I want my relationships to be driven by people.  Friends.  Warm bodies.  Not a tech venture.