My friends - well, who are we kidding - they were right beside. My mother cringed in embarrassment, and hoped none of her friends would be driving by to see me through the window, dancing on the bar in my Coyote Ugly tank top, flashing my thurstan top to someone in her bridge group whose daughter married a doctor. I wasn't there to hear the band or I would have chosen a group that could actually sing. The ladies next door prayed for me on Wednesdays. I wasn't there for quality time with my friends, or we would have stayed home and eaten Chinese food and watched Roseann Jones Diary for the eleventh time. I'm ashamed to admit it but, yes, I was on a mission. Reasons Not to Shop For Your Soul Mate in a Bar Yes, I'll admit it, for years I shopped for my significant other in the seedy, smoky, sweat-filled, shoulder-to-shoulder, move-to-the-drum-beat kinds of places that would charge you a nickel for draft beer and then give you a dollar to hang your undergarments on the rafters - and, well, you do the math.

My father said I was an example of a wasted college education.