THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 16, 1995 TAG: 9507130020
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY CHARLISE LYLES, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 156 lines
IT WAS the first time for Pat Parnell, 52.
Usually, the divorcee of 13 years spends Saturday evenings ``in bed with a doctor.'' That is, watching ``Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman'' on television, Parnell joked.
But on a recent Saturday, an attractive, well-coiffed Parnell found herself at the epicenter of a whirling strobe light, a master blaster disc jockey, and a swirl of about 175 folks, many well past 50, slipping and dipping to the ``Electric Slide.''
It took a lot of doing: nagging from her children, some begging and several insistent invitations from friends, plus a healthy dose of self-cajoling. Finally, Parnell pushed herself out to a dance sponsored by ``Single Affairs.''
The club is one of a proliferation of Hampton Roads groups aimed at easing the ache and adding some fun to the solo life when you would rather be part of a dynamic duo. Also among them are Single Gourmet, Singles Society and Selective Singles on the Peninsula.
They serve the 42 percent of women and 37 percent of men in the area who are separated, divorced or widowed, or never have been married. Members are as young as 24 and as young as 66.
Most clubs, rooted in a get-on-your-feet-and-get-a-life philosophy, focus on the social. They can function as live personal ads where you can meet someone, get to know him or her and then ask for a date. In effect, a better deal.
They make the single life in Hampton Roads, a place where it's sometimes hard to meet other folks like yourself, a little more bearable.
Most importantly, for longtime singles like Parnell, the clubs are a refuge from the rejection that single people fear.
``I feel safe at home,'' said Parnell, a health-care worker. ``I've got my family, my children and grandchildren. But here. . . ''
Single Affairs president Lisa Revak uses a simple set of rules as a guarantee against rejection and other unpleasantnesses for the club's 350 dues-paying members:
You must accept all first invitations to the dance floor. ``A rejection could be crushing for someone who is coming out after being widowed or after a painful divorce,'' said Revak.
Folks dating seriously are not allowed to attend dances. ``It's not fair to everyone who comes to the dance assuming that everyone is eligible,'' she said.
No smoking on the dance floor. That takes the stench out of having a good time and makes most people, even the smokers, more comfortable, said Revak.
Unabashedly, Single Affairs' goal is to ``get people married.''
``When I see that love is happening I get so thrilled. I feel like I'm doing my job. This club should be a stepping stone to another chapter in your future,'' said Revak, a happily married mother of two. Her own mother's search for a niche after a long marriage motivated Revak to start the club.
So far, Single Affairs boasts three marriages since its inception a year ago. On July 8, club members Carla Farris and Bob Barnett said their vows at Regent University.
Revak says she earns about $150 weekly from the nonprofit club. Its 350 members pay $29 in annual dues.
The groups aren't getting together to grumble about being single. Monthly newsletters and calendars are packed with dances, cocktails, picnics, auctions, baseball games.
``We are a social club,'' said Beverly (Bev) Sell of Singles Society. ``We're not going to match you up with the person of your dreams. We do the things that you want to do, but don't want to do by yourself, from whitewater rafting to chamber music.''
Other groups are religious-based, such as the Jewish singles group that has held a nationwide gathering at the Oceanfront in August for 13 years, according to Pearl Taylor at Temple Israel.
At downtown Norfolk's Ramada Hotel, the floor jumped with singles who paid $6 for a dance, some silver-haired and mini-skirted, most limber as a lemur. Greg Humphreys, a 33-year-old NASA engineer, sprung about with hip-hop grace.
``I love dancing,'' said Humphreys, a slender mustachioed man in plaid shirt, jeans and rubber-soled shoes. ``I come here from Hampton just to dance.''
Across the glitter-sprinkled table, Pat Parnell sat, looking both wistful and slightly bored as the strobe light streaked across her face. She has yet to dance. The music slowed to Celine Dion singing ``Power of Love'' and the dance floor filled. Parnell shifted in her seat.
``To tell you the truth,'' she whispered, ``I haven't seen anybody yet who really appeals to me.''
Across the table, such sentiments weren't stopping Polly Gillespie from having a good time.
``Most clubs are just meat markets,'' said Gillespie, a saucy, 40-ish blonde. ``I myself come from an alcoholic husband. This is a safe environment here, no pressure, everybody's not waiting to see who they can go home with.''
Couples bumped, stomped, shagged lightly, hand danced, never letting up to ``Night Fever,'' ``Funky Town'' and other disco hits.
At another table closer to the dance floor, widower Richard West of Chesapeake took a break from the dance floor with his newfound friend, widow Deloris Perguson.
``I had been sitting around home in the pits of despair since my wife passed last October and it was really getting to me,'' said West, in his 60s. A friend urged him to come to the singles dance. He finally came out eight weeks ago.
Near the bar, Michael Hall, 24, in tie, starched white shirt and khakis, had reached some conclusions.
``I got a feeling I'm just a little too young to be here,'' said Hall, sipping a vodka and tonic. ``I came here from Raleigh to the Navy, and it's not easy to meet people.''
Meanwhile, at Parnell's table, Jack W. Stevens, 6-foot-10 1/2 in a high-voltage red shirt, came stalking for a partner. His pal Dina Mathews, in a sequined black mini dress, was available. And ``Staying Alive'' was thumping the floor.
The way Stevens' black cowboy boots jigged under the strobe light, there was no way you could know his leg was amputated a year ago.
``I never started dancing again till I came to this club. Dina got me out here,'' said Stevens, 53, who said he was shot three years ago. ``Now between this place and Heartbreak Cafe, I never sit down.''
Mathews, a 39-year-old divorced accountant, grinned to take credit and kept on kicking.
Parnell was still smiling, but still seated with poise at her table. Then along came the evening's surprise guest, Duffy the Clown, red haired, big-shoed and bloomered. He insisted. She danced.
It won't be her last. ILLUSTRATION: [Color Photo]
VICKI CRONIS
Staff
Dina Mathews and Jack Stevens cut a rug at a dance in Norfolk
sponsored by Single Affairs. Unabashedly, the club tries to "get
people married."
VICKI CRONIS
Staff
Couples crowd the dance floor during the Single Affairs
get-together. The club's 350 members pay dues of $29 a year.
TO JOIN:
Single Affairs, call Lisa Revak, 721-0772.
Single Gourmet, call Ethel-Ray Greenspan, 623-0687.
Singles Society, call Beverly Sell, 853-2989.
Selective Singles (Peninsula), call Lila Lewis, 249-5452.
FACTS OF LIFE
Graphic
JANET SHAUGHNESSY/Staff
Are you available?
City by city tallies of the unmarried over age 15
SOURCE: 1990 U.S. Census
Norfolk 52%
Portsmouth 45%
Suffolk 41%
Newport News 40%
Chesapeake 36%
Virginia Beach 36%
by CNB