Buttercup's Musings: Single In The City
I felt like writing about dating as a twenty-something urbanite for a while now but my awareness of how cliché it was stopped me somewhat. Well, I acknowledge it; it’s very Carrie Bradshaw of me to write about dating in a big city. My life, however, resembles more an episode of Friends, except for the good-looking guys living across the hall. Let’s face it; my life does not involve much sex as much as it involves meeting guys and deciding whether I like them or not. This leads to a syndrome I’ve named the first-date blues. I’m not one to enjoy superficial relationships, and I can only talk about my vital stats so many times. I’m certainly not my favourite subject of conversation.
It might seem I’m needlessly complaining about being swamped by wannabe Romeos. Don’t be fooled; I don’t date that much. I must confess to having joined the fray of online daters, which has yielded an increase in the number of available guys at my disposal, 24/7. This medium has yielded mixed results but has made me feel proactive. Maybe this is really all I’ll get from online dating: a moral boost.
You meet interesting guys on dating sites. Well, some are interesting scary, and some are just sweet. Some of them really have that special touch. More recently, I’ve been corresponding with a 34-year-old fellow who produced this gem: “24 and 25 is usually when most girls get married. Are you concerned you’ll never get married?” Thank you for the nice poke of the iron in the wound of singlehood. Thank you for trying to get to the heart of every spinster’s delight: being asked about the abnormality of her status. On which planet are all 24-year-olds married? Am I asking you how weird it is you’re 34 and unmarried? No, because it isn’t inappropriate for a boy to be unmarried. However, I’m a 25-year-old single girl, hence, I should be the desperate/concerned/obsessed. Should I join a nunnery at once?
Nevertheless, even if I wish to avoid thinking about the social implications of being single, I seem on a perpetual hunt for a guy. Not a desperate scrambling for a man; rather a constant alertness to my surroundings. Is it him? Is he the one? This is exhausting when you already have more work on your plate than you can manage. I’m tired of waiting for my coupledom to begin.
For now, I’ll settle for my Friends kind of life. Sex in the city with the right man shall come soon enough.