Summary

An individual recounts their experience with various social clubs and activities in an attempt to make friends after relocating from the West to the South.

Abstract

The author shares a personal narrative about the challenges and successes of forming new connections after moving to a different part of the country. They detail their involvement in a range of clubs, from croquet and golf to a church mat group and a Mah Jongg circle, and even serving as a court reporter for their homeowners association. The author's unique personality and style are evident as they describe their experiences, which include both humorous and less favorable outcomes. Despite not fitting the conventional mold, the author finds some degree of belonging and is optimistic about deepening relationships over time, particularly within the church community.

Opinions

The author views themselves as an outsider, using terms like "Maverick," "Iconoclast," and "Weirdo," suggesting a self-awareness of their nonconformity.
Joining the croquet club was initially successful in meeting people, but the presence of a racist member was unsettling.
The author expresses humor and sarcasm regarding their brief involvement in a social golf group, highlighting the absurdity of the fees and rules.
They have a positive opinion of the church Mat Group, praising the mats made for the homeless and acknowledging the skill of the crocheters.
The author finds humor in their role as a "Stripper" in the mat group, where the terminology used among members leads to amusing situations.
Serving as a Court Rep is seen as a less successful endeavor, with the author feeling more like a documentarian of neighborhood issues than a community member.
The Eagle Tour on the lake is depicted as an underwhelming experience, with the author comically underscoring the challenges of socializing over the noise of the boat motor.
The church Mah Jongg group is viewed with cautious optimism, as the author, an atheist, appreciates the inclusivity of the Unitarians and hopes to find like-minded friends despite differences in age and background.
The author acknowledges the difficulty of making friends, especially as someone who doesn't consider themselves "normal," and suggests that repeated interactions with acquaintances in the church community are key to forming new friendships.

Making Friends after Moving

You won’t believe the clubs I joined.

Photo by Proxyclick Visitor Management System on Unsplash

Maverick. Iconoclast. Weirdo.

Call me what you will, but I don’t usually fit in. I’m out of sync, semi-relevant on a good day, and shun fashion trends.

I am wearing the same outfit today as I did when I was nine: corduroys, a t-shirt, and a secondhand sweater.

So making friends after moving cross-country from the West to the South hasn’t been a piece of cake. I don’t eat cake, or drink sweet tea, and that doesn’t help.

Success Story #1

I joined the croquet club, and immediately met people. Unfortunately, one of them was a passionate racist.

There’s plenty of time to chat while chillin’ on the artificial turf. I met Ralph, who was only playing croquet because golf and pickleball required too much of a commitment, not to mention athleticism.

Ralph was not the racist, but a gentlemen who moved down from Chicago.

Swell dude, then they changed the club hours to Thursday nights and I realized I wasn’t old enough to dodder on level turf. I needed a bit more of a challenge, plus the racist wanted to be my friend.

Face Plant #1

I joined a social golf sect, er, group. After sending $10, I received a pleasant email explaining all the fees and scoring and rules. It was October, near the end of the season, and I heard nothing more.

But I did buy golf clubs for a screamin’ deal at $50 and got out on the driving range.

I’m looking forward to late Spring, when the white-tailed deer turn from gray to red and the rainbow colors of geezer golfers appear again on the links.

Until then, I must seek indoor diversion in the company of others, in a jungle of bright red and Christmas green holiday outfits.

Success Story #2

I joined the church Mat Group. This is a klatch of older ladies — crones with a cause! — who crochet mats for the homeless out of plastic.

Say what you will, these mats rock. I wrote about this delightful product in PARN is the New Affordable Housing.

Yes, that’s right — we knit together ex-plastic bags, together. The crocheters are the alpha dogs, admired by the rest of us. I tried to learn the nimble art of crocheting but realized I had no talent or interest for it, so I happily took a demotion to using a faux-pizza cutter.

I am now a Stripper.

We have hookers, ballers, and strippers, which is hilarious every time anyone says this out loud.

Face Plant #2

I became a Court Rep, since I own two (very cheap) townhomes in one of the courts. I go to meetings, and whenever Linda from the Homeowners Association says:

“Jump!”

I ask, “How high, Linda?”

Then I drive to my court to document the transgression, usually involving crumbling plaster or rotting wooden beams.

I take photos. I show up at monthly Board Meetings, which make watching paint dry feel like a front-row seat at a NASCAR event.

I’ve met one person, but she lives in Little Rock and I haven’t seen her since.

Mixed Bag on a Boat

I signed up for the Eagle Tour on the lake, sponsored by my church.

We filed onto a boat, under the guidance of a park ranger, one November before Covid. The boat was loud, I’m guessing because it had a motor so we wouldn’t have to row like a gray-haired throng of Viking slaves.

The eagles were dots in the sky, and I nearly transformed into an icicle because I was underdressed. Turns out lake crossings tend to be windy.

Conversation was impossible, but thankfully we all shared a meal afterwards, and I met a few people while observing some serious entitlement in the group.

Some patrons were pretty whiny when their stuffed mushrooms didn’t arrive exactly on time. To be fair, they were cold and hungry and had eyestrain from trying to find eagles all day.

Success Story #3

The church Mah Jongg group allowed me to join. I am an atheist, but these are Unitarians, so no one cares. I tried hard to conceal the fact that during my teen years, I’d even toyed with Satanism.

I had enough experience in Mah Jongg to catch on, and it’s only $3 per game.

So far, no fast friends but it’s only been a month. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Everyone is older, mostly 70+, and they were almost all teachers, nurses, or housewives extraordinaire.

Let’s just say it’s a Tony Bennett crowd, and I’m a Tom Petty gal.

I’m holding out hope I’ll find someone who’d rather be playing D&D and isn’t ashamed to admit they read The Satanic Bible in high school before realizing Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs was more their speed.

Final Feelings

Look, it’s hard to make friends even if you are normal, whatever the heck that is.

I’m no extrovert, either, but I make up for it by blathering. The jury is still out on whether that’s helpful, as my foot gets lodged in my mouth on the regular.

I have met neighbors, to the point where moving to another house — unless we discovered a tribe of gremlins living in our garage — is less likely than it was a year ago.

Thankfully, I ran into Croquet Ralph again at our church trivia night. The other day, I saw Miriam at the gym — also from church.

I guess you could say the solution for making friends in a new land, whether it’s as an expat or a transplant or even a refugee, is:

Church

Praise be, and pass the candied yams and ammunition.