"WOW! It's been FOREVER! How have you been? What are you up to? Married/Kids? I'm in (insert small town here) teaching/nursing/cutting hair, married for 6 years, 2 little boys and a little girl! So good to see you again! Keep in touch!"
Translation: "WOW! You don't look the way I imagined you to AT ALL! I've pretty much managed to keep up with you through the local gossip mill, so I'm basically just here checking to see if you're still fat or look coked out. Where are you working now and how much are they paying you? Have you been deemed worthy enough by the opposite sex to enter into a union? I don't really care, except that I want to judge your spouse to see if they are a mismatch. If you've reproduced, I need to know if these are bastard children, so I'm going to do the math with your wedding date. I find myself unable to leave the 5 mile radius of my parents and the only life I've ever known. I teach elementary school, am a nurse, or cut hair because I lack the necessary social skills to find true friendships outside of my work environment and don't have much to offer a conversation that isn't work-related. I married my high school sweeetheart because of that damn abstinence pledge I signed in 8th grade, and finally, at age 22, I decided I was ready to make the leap but required a marriage license so that Jesus would accept my natural desires. As a cruel joke for waiting so long, God made me pregnant within the first week of my marriage. Each subsequent child has been the result of me wanting someone to whom I can transfer my love, since my increasing despondent spouse and I have very little in common despite our 10 year courtship of convenience. It was nice to find your profile so that I can stalk you. Any future correspondence will include the obligatory 'Happy Birthday' and annoying comments to your status updates, usually with an 'LOL'."
So, that's good and gravy and all, but when I respond that I'm living far away, just working a lot (don't like to give them the satisfaction of knowing exactly what it is I do), still single and no kids, thank goodness, I'm met with this reply:
"Wow, that sure is a world away from where we grew up! Sounds like you're loving your life (even though I have given no indication one way or the other)...and don't worry...you'll find someone soon! And just wait until you have kids! Your life will change and you won't even remember what life was like before!"
Okay, "don't worry...you'll find someone soon!" Since when did someone photoshop my face over the poster of the wet cat with the caption "Hang In There!"? Trust me...I'm not worried about finding someone soon. I find people all the time. Sometimes, I just nod at them as we pass on the sidewalk. Sometimes, I ignore them. Sometimes, I sleep with them. People are everywhere. Chicago has 9 million people. Why do people just assume that because I'm single I don't want to be? And why does this behavior seem to be prevalent in small Southern towns? Of all the people I've 'found' in Chicago, when they ask if I'm seeing anyone and I reply don't-count-on-it, they never say, "Aw, don't worry. There's someone out there for you."
Not to go all Carrie Bradshaw on your ass, but since when do you have to be in a couple to be considered whole? I don't need another person to complete me anymore than an amputee needs an artificial limb to feel like a whole person. I'm selfish. I'm moody. Sometimes, I'm messy. I keep odd hours. I have strange habits that some closest friends don't know about. I tend to drink until I pass out. I'm an unapologetic smoker. My life is not where I planned it to be. I have no 5 year plan. I could go on and on, but I think you get the point...I find it hard enough to live with me, why in the hell would I want to bring someone into this mess? And I would seriously have to judge the mental well-being of anyone who would knowingly enter a relationship with me.
Now, the alleged benefits of being in a relationship...
-Someone's always there for you. People, that's why there are dogs. Unconditional love. Right there. And could not be more happy to see you if you're coming home from a 2 week vacation, or just coming back from the bathroom.
-Someone to grow old with. Maybe I'm delusional (okay, scratch the 'maybe'), but growing old is not something I sit around and think about. If anything, it's in the furthest crevice of my brain along with the lyrics to 'Wild Wild West' by Escape Club. Being old, crippled, more-than-likely broke, wildly unattractive, smelling of several ointments, not in control of my bladder without the alcohol excuse...not something I'm pining for, that's for damn sure. Get me a dog if I make it to 65.
-Guaranteed Regular Sex. Okay, in theory, that's a good one. But as a single person, I'm having more sex than my coupled friends. I'm sure it's great when you're 'making love' to someone you're 'in love with,' but don't be so quick to dismiss casual encounters. Sure, it's embarrassing when you have to take the cab-ride-home-of-shame, go to the Bravo website to look up the cast members from the previous season of Project Runway to put a name with the face of the person you just left, but how is it that much different from the sad, desperate role playing couple who 'meet' at a bar when the woman is dressed like a 99 cent version of Shauna Sands and the man looks like he should be holding court in a Vegas lounge far off the Strip? Hey, I'm not having to 'role-play' that whole strangers in the night fantasy, I'm living it.
-Someone you can be yourself around. That's why I have friends. I can tell them things that I would never tell someone I wanted to have sex with. They've seen me cry. They've seen me laugh. They've seen me looking rough. They've seen me vomit. They've seen me have an accident when I passed out after drinking 2 fifths of Jager. And you know what? They're still my friends.
So, unless they're incredibly wealthy and generous, passive/aggressive depending on my mood, enjoy cleaning up after me, will carry my drunk ass out of a bar with a smile on their face, send me a carton of Parliament Lights as a 'happy,' and find a lack of direction a turn-on, I'm good.
If life is a 5th grade field day and I need a partner for the 3-legged race...I'm content to sit on the side drinking soda from a waxy Coca-Cola cup waiting for the Potato Sack race.
