DC single guy Kareem brings us another great post.

Being single is rough. Specifically, the hunt to find a significant other can be incredibly draining: from setting up and keeping up to date with online accounts on match-making websites, to actively browsing Craigslist “missed connections” (don’t lie, you know you do it too), to the constant barrage of couple after couple walking down the street, out at restaurants, and in popular media. People make a living just discussing couples – how couples find each other, and how people connect. For the gay community, it seems the main outlet to meet people is to go out, almost exclusively in the evening and at night. From happy hour to early morning dancing at clubs and parties: the PM/early AM seems to be the definitive time frame in which to meet other single people. But what happens when, as an active single person, you are plagued with a hesitancy towards the dark, an aversion to the night? As I become more and more integrated into the nightlife culture that comes with being single and living in a city, I’ve come to conclusion: I am a morning person. And this is severely affecting my single lifestyle.

As I’ve mentioned in an earlier post,  I could already be considered a senior citizen in my early twenties: I have salt and pepper hair that I am convinced will reach the extreme of Anderson Cooper well before my thirtieth birthday. I wear thick, brown, church-donation-box glasses. I enjoy scrounging for deals in the grocery store and don’t even try to feed me cereal that does not have at least three grams of fiber. For me, Lucky Charms is the equivalent to water-boarding and Coca Cola makes my stomach hurt. To make matters worse, my gym trainer the other day threw out my legs while stretching my hips. Turned on yet? Me neither. And the frosting on the cupcake (that I baked last Friday night instead of going out): I am absolutely a morning-person. I have the inability to sleep in past eight in the morning. During a one week stint in Beirut last year, I spent four nights in a row dancing from 7 PM to 10 AM, after which I was convinced I had stepped into an alternate universe while tripping on a mysterious Middle Eastern hallucinogen… while skydiving. I’m fairly certain both my mind and body had never before been so confused and discombobulated. Over the years, I’ve dozed off during important elections (read: the most recent presidential one), New Year’s Eve parties, movies, important media coverage of world events, and long-awaited get-togethers. It took me four evenings to watch Memoirs of a Geisha, to the consternation of my ex-boyfriend. Four evenings dedicated to that awful, awful movie adaptation.

All of this severely affects my ability to take on DC and it’s nighttime-loving social scene. Many people don’t even head out until eleven or later. One could make the argument that brunch is to morning people as the late night mixer is to night owls, but most people don’t socialize outside their strict social cliques the morning after. There are too many omelets to be consumed and mimosas to be had to worry about the hot guy over by the window who may or may not be gay. What do you think? For me, an avid foodie, I would choose the crepe du jour over the hunk du jour anyday. Especially if nutella is involved. And while various events have been set up in order to promote social interaction outside of the bar, such as TNG’s day in the park, I’ve found that most people are too busy during the day to be interested in meeting other potential single people. Whether sleeping in until the afternoon, which brings a chill down my spine, or mustering through the hangover from last night at Duplex Diner, most people abhor the idea of leaving their homes before dinner with the intent of a serious romantic encounter.  The recipe is in favor of the that cocky, victorious night-owl: one part evening drinks with a dash of socializing, bring to a boil and you have a healthy portion of: “Whoops, it’s two in the morning, want to come back to my place?” How can a morning person avoid the stresses surrounding this rigid social formula, enforced by evening bar specials and endless late night debauchery?

Over a strong cup of coffee and a batch of homemade seven-in-the-morning-on-Saturday blueberry muffins, I came up with my conclusion: we can’t. It isn’t possible. Ultimately, in the scheme of things, being a morning person isn’t that big a deal. There are many parts of the world where it doesn’t matter if you are a night person or a morning person or a person at all as long as you can feed yourself and your family and survive to see the next day. In that respect, it is almost selfish to think about this topic in any sort of serious light. With North Korea firing missiles and the American auto industry a mess, and whatever the hell is going on in Iran these days, the topic seems mundane if not trivial. But, while we as morning people can’t avoid our PM-centric society, we can still raise awareness and foster a community. There must be ways to congregate and at the same time rely on a sundial. I’m certain this is possible and I’m determined to seek out these enclaves of day-gays. Until I do, please note: yes, I will be tired even if I drink Red Bull (which I absolutely do not). No, I’m not yawning because I’m not interested in you or want to be somewhere else. Yes, I will probably wake up tomorrow morning and stare at the ceiling obsessing over whether I should have eggs or oatmeal or forgo breakfast all together while you gently snore beside me and sleep in until approximately lunchtime. Give me a break. I can’t help it.

Now get up already so I can have some goddamn coffee. My joints are killing me.