In today's day and age, dating can be quite interesting and entirely too entertaining for those of us who get to watch (it's the voyeur in me coming out I'm sure). A very special person in my life is currently living and hating the single life (Uncle R). He's handsome, rich, super single, and just an all around nice guy. The perfect catch, right? He seems to be but unfortunately, he's just not attracting the right sort of girl. The women who seem to be expressing interest just have "issues." Children, rebound love, boyfriends, everyone has something considered to be excess baggage.

I've encouraged my little buddy to have an active online social networking account (very popular - won't name it to protect the innocent) and I help him frequently edit to add pics, comments, etc. He's had a lot of interest with it and I've enjoyed seeing his little ego peak with every MILF and cougar comment he's gotten. A few nights back, we decided that it was time for him to venture into the exciting Humboldt County dating scene and I invited him to (insert dramatic drum roll here...); Girl's Night. This special night occurs only once in a blue moon to our small group of girlfriends. It's a night of wild debauchery, hard liquor, and pure adrenaline producing excitement, set in the backdrop of a poorly lit, smoky casino filled full of immoral heathens. To translate, it's a night out without the kids and hubbies, at the casino playing penny slots and downing watery pina coladas while living vicariously through the youngsters in the crowd.

I chose to be the responsible and oh so maternal designated driver, and promptly began my tour of duty by chauffeuring Uncle R to his awaiting piece of heaven. Uncle R and my girlfriends began their course of adult beverages while I became a silent groupie around the soda machines, drinking until my bladder felt as thought it would burst. I needed that caffeine high, no matter the cost. Honestly, I had only been at the casino a couple of times, and each time had been for some sort of celebration where adult beverages (in moderation of course) had been involved. Being high on caffeine and stone cold sober, I was actually frightened to a point as I suddenly realized how scary some of our fellow gamblers were. I'm not about to brag about that I have long luxurious locks of gold hair and endless sky blue glowing eyes (and I won't even mention my bodacious almost pre-child body), but holy smokes, is it asking too much to have your guests at least take a shower prior to going out? Or how about combing your hair and brushing your teeth? Cigarettes and alcohol do not entirely cover the smell of "funk."

As I sat there babysitting Uncle R, who quickly realized that when they said "double" they didn't just mean it in the price, I slowly looked around to take it all in. For those of you not familiar with the sort of female (I hesitate to say "lady") characters you might see on a night like this, let me introduce you. Please keep in mind that this was also the selection my girlfriends and I were trying to choose from for Uncle R:

Type 1 Female (no longer a MILF): Under 40, with or without dentures. Likes to pop dentures in and out of mouth during heavy gambling or deep conversation. Always has ciggy up to her leathery lips. Has deep, phlegmy smokers laugh, and likes shiny things. She sticks to the hard liquor and Steel Reserve. Usually single or a grandmother of at least 10.

Type 2 Female (almost a MILF): Under 40, has all teeth. Wears comfortable clothing (i.e.: sweatsuit or velour) and promptly hoists a leg up on her seat as she plays her penny, nickel and quarter slots (helps the carpal tunnel that is aggravated by the gambling problem). May or may not smoke and tends to drink fruity drinks or soda. Usually married with at least two kids.

Type 3 Female (former MILF now a cougar): Over 40, probably with dentures. She's a silver fox wearing her polyester finest jumpsuit. She's rockin' the bling-bling in the form of QVC diamonique and sticks to her frugal penny and nickel slots. She may or may not smoke, but darn it, she makes whatever she does look (sing it like Fergie) GLAMOROUS. May be married but probably divorced or a widow.

Type 4 Female (wannabe MILF): Under 30, has most teeth. Very fond of spandex type cotton, snug fitting clothes and muffin tops. They tend to cluster in a group like a pack of hyenas and also make similar type noises as they are easily excitable. They share ciggies and drinks, and only gamble if it brings them closer to a good looking - or at least reasonably good looking guy with exposed greenbacks. They usually profess to either having or to have had a career as an exotic dancer. ** I know this from a previous casino experience where my girlfriends and I met a 300 lb "stripper" in the bathroom. We all raced to pee so that we could get out of the stalls and see her shake her stuff, as she was gyrating her goodies for her strange looking four foot friend who had accompanied her into the bathroom. It was a strange, surreal experience, and I practically needed bleach for my eyeballs when she was done. ** They are usually single.

Type 5 Female (lady): Under 30, has teeth and nice shape and face. Also likes snug clothing but looks good in it as well. She's confident with or without a group and only smokes on occasion. She's usually linked to a man (more than likely a hubby) and is the rarest group of the female casino crowd. She's taken and has no children. Heck, she probably even works and goes to college - maybe even to be a doctor! Woohoo!!

As you can tell, we looked long and hard for a Type 5, would have settled for a Type 3, but there was no such women to be had. Uncle R was forced to hang with the ladies and drink profusely in order to make the Type 1, 2 and 4 look more appealing. We continued to gamble our night away on the penny slots, and I had to remind Uncle R several times of decimal placement when it came to winning actual money on the penny slots (no Uncle R, 500 pennies does not make you rich - no matter what country you're in).

At the end of the night, and after observing Uncle R perform several drunk dials to numerous friends, we parted ways with our group. I drove Uncle R to his home and quietly watched him stumble up his steps, where he promptly waived his arms like one of those floppy kite figures, indicating that he was OK and in his apartment. I hesitated to leave until I saw him get inside and turn the lights on. I know that he's a grown man (almost 30 to be exact) but I didn't want him to have any unexplained black eyes or bruises caused by an unsteady floor. I don't necessarily think it was physical injury I was too worried about, but more of the potential emotional devastation we could have caused him; The dating scene he was exposed to at the casino wasn't exactly prime but I think he survived it and more than likely learned something from it. He will definitely be invited to the next Girl's Night, and hopefully, we'll actually find an available Type 5 lady for him.