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Whilst on one of my “free” browsing jaunts in Barnes & Nobles, I chanced upon a particular book titled The Quarter Life Crisis (QLC). Intrigued, I skimmed through the first few chapters that highlighted the tumultuous times that the quarter-lifers (people in their 20s, specifically ages 24-30) go through. I did tend to agree with the authors that this period was a lesser-known cousin of the famed mid-life crisis period whereas the dilemmas of career, marriage, education for the quarter lifers are far more significant. Additionally I also noticed a website that listed numerous forums in cities around the US. These forums encouraged people living in same cities to get together to share experiences of their quarter lives in the hope that talking would make it a wee bit easier.
Normally I wouldn’t be game for any sort of group meetings that reflected on the poor troubled state of my mind. But just for the kicks, I posted a brief message on one of the Atlanta forums and totally forgot about it. After 4-5 months I got an email that my post had received a reply, and there was this girl who wanted to get the forum started in Atlanta. We exchanged couple of emails and decided to meet up and in the meantime another girl too had joined in. After dilly-dallying for a while, we decided to meet up in a restaurant yesterday night. I was absolutely no expectations and was in just for the opportunity to do something that I normally wouldn’t do (yup, I am strange). But my friends were all gung-ho and making up all kinds of stories of blind dates and awesome threesomes. Secretly maybe I too wished the girls were hot.
The meeting was an anti-climax. First of all, the place was too noisy with a noisy jazz band (I too was surprised that jazz could be jarring) and a boisterous drunk lesbian birthday party, making any kind of table talk almost impossible. I was literally screaming my head off to make myself heard from across the table. Our group looked like a lopsided Olympic victory podium with one of the girls towering above me; all of six feet and heels and the other relatively shorter with flat soles. Call it bad luck, but it turned out that the girls were from the same college which made talk for them a lot easier with me just staring into empty space while they got over their college memories. I am usually very quiet with strangers and more so, if I can’t join in the conversations.
First meetings, I am a bad person you would expect to leave a lasting impression on. I being the Indian of course got me some of the cross culture questions, which I answered with all aplomb I could muster. Joint families, yeah! we have tons of those – hundred relatives living under one roof. Elephants, yeah! I had a pet one and used him to go to school. Education, yeah! everyone goes to college and then migrate to the US to boost the American economy. Tech jobs, yeah! because we are smarter. Yoga, yeah! I often transport myself to India to visit my parents. Of course, I was kidding and made it clear, much to their relief. Apart from that, I was thankful no one raised the topic of the quarter life crisis because pouring my heart out and telling my life’s sorrows to some strangers I had met a few minutes ago was the last thing I wanted to do.
But frankly, the meeting wasn’t all that exciting or maybe I am just not cut out to meet new people on the spur of the moment. I have to improve my people skills, if nothing else. I take my own sweet time to settle in and can safely admit that I can be a good friend once I am comfortable with the people I am with. This however makes me hate the adage that the first impression is the last impression. I would be considered a pretty lame person if that were true. Finally, the meeting did come to an end and I drove out into the Diwali night, signified only by the Christmas lights and a single laaman diva(oil wick lamp) in our patio. I don’t suppose we would meet again, promises to exchange emails and phone numbers apart. And, no! The girls were NOT hot but that’s not important, is it?
by Patrix | on Sunday, October 26th, 2003 at 1:35 pm | 
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