Those Dating in Connecticut Need a Wingman

I spent Thanksgiving this year with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Andrea.

Andrea flew out from Denver to share a traditional meal with all the trimmings: turkey legs, green beans, instant gravy, gooey sweet potatoes, the stuffing you make by adding hot water and biscuits from a can – just like mom used to make.

In addition to a grand meal I essentially prepared by boiling water and preheating the stove, I also promised her a charming New England holiday. We’ll drink apple cider, stomp around the crunchy leaves in the woods, go wine tasting, and take the train to New York.

Of course, we’ll also be enjoying New Haven’s nightlife, as Andrea is the perfect “wingman.”

The concept of needing a wingman comes second nature to me as I’ve been serving in the U.S. Coast Guard since 2002. Teamwork is an important skill that has served me well on and off duty. So, to answer from my : yes; when I hit the bar scene I don’t fly solo.

Now, wingman has several “official” shallow and inappropriately worded definitions according to UrbanDictionary.com – all specifically relating to men trying to help each other get some action in the bedroom.  For the purpose of this article, when I say wingman, I’m really talking more along the lines of a chick’s chick (as defined in the 4 Man Plan): a girl friend who’ll rally for a night out, participate in bathroom feedback sessions, and respect the hard and fast boundaries established when you call “dibs” on a guy. Essentially, a good wingman is someone who’ll watch your back, let you know if you have maraschino cherry stuck in your teeth and never make a move on your man.

I feel safer with a wingman. After all, it’s no fun to end up alone and in a .  A wingman or a group of friends is just a better way to guarantee a safe and fun night out.

When I was stationed in Oregon, my friend Bada and I had a pretty good man-catching system. We’d go out as a pair, walk in together, scope the scene, split up, find a guy and bring him back to the bar for a drink. We’d usually get to the bar about the same time, and then we could hang out together without being part of an unapproachable group of girls or a weird “lone wolf.” 

That tactic hasn’t worked so well for me in Connecticut. Most places I go, it feels like everyone is already in a group.  Whenever I try to find an “in,” I get such strange looks, I rush to the bathroom to check my face for traces of my dinner or boogers or something.

My theory is: I’m not a circus freak, or a girl who awkwardly has food on her face; I’m just an unknown, a stranger in a small shoreline town.

When I first moved here, a neighbor told me, “I sure hope you have a job in which you’ll be working long hours. You probably won’t make many friends here, we don’t do well with transient people.”

I smiled and made a joke about my transient gypsy lifestyle. Meeting people and making friends had never been a problem for me in the past, so I wasn’t too worried about it. 

Shortly after, however, I suffered through and . It wasn’t long before I started to feel like maybe my neighbor was right and I was in for a very lonely few years.

Honestly, it’s been more difficult here than other places I’ve lived, but I have made some pretty amazing friends. Culturally, I find people in New England are harder to get to know but once you are in the group, you’re like family and you’d be hard pressed to find a more warm and welcoming crowd or a more readily available wingman. New Englanders really get the concept of loyalty.

Now, if only one of my Connecticut friends knew an eligible bachelor with whom they could set me up… *hint hint*