If the last six months is any indication, I’m probably going to stay single for a very long time.
Please refrain from leaving me bullshit pep talk comments. I will be polite and cordial and allow you to feel better about yourself in doing so, but your words will have no real value to me. I do not care that because you’re successfully coupled you feel as if you’re an expert who should offer advice. My favorite instances of this is when coupled friends will try to set me up with just about anyone, including the delivery guy, their hairdresser and in one particular instance someone who was interviewed for a position where I work – all based solely on the fact that they are single as well. A close relative asked me at one point if there were any available men at work, to which I replied: “Well I work at an AIDS organization, so even if they were single, most likely I wouldn’t be the correct gender,” to which I was told that one solution would be to find a new job. I also love my male friends dearly, but I don’t really need you telling me that if you were single you would be interested. Especially when we’ve been single around each other before and you’re dating some idiot just because she’s hot.
So in the last six months I’ve gone on the worst five dates of my entire life. On one instance, a date left while I used the bathroom. On another, a bird shit on me while sitting in a park, which didn’t go so well with my OCD, clean freak of a date. In another instance, a guy whom I was aware was unemployed prior to the date told me he used to do little bumps of cocaine to get through the day when he was working. A long time friend who I trusted enough to see in a different light ended up using me and sticking me with an $80 bill. And the creme de la creme? There was a gentleman I went out with a few times, things escalated. He lost erection at an inopportune moment and told me when he was a kid he used to be surprised when he looked in the mirror and saw he wasn’t a dinosaur.
Right around the point when my mother realized I was going to be graduating with a degree in Social Work, my mother changed her tune from “You can be anything you want to be” to “Maybe you’ll meet a nice boy soon.” For the last eight years, she’s been pushing me to give her grandkids. When I moved out a year or two later, she stopped even caring if I met a nice boy and said she wouldn’t even mind if I became a single mom.
A few years back, I had the worst break up in the history of break ups. My father had a near fatal river tubing accident in which he had to be helicoptered to the nearest hospital. My now ex, who I had been dating for a year, thought that would be a good time to suddenly stop returning my calls. Not particularly interested in humanity at that point, I adopted a dog.
I am absolutely a biased opinion but he’s pretty much the greatest dog that ever lived. He’s adorable, sweet, friendly, unimposing and he pees on the neighbor’s obnoxious imported crotch rocket. And he smiles every time I come home. Periodically he’ll be walking in one direction and me the other and he’ll stop to lick my leg as I go by. He lays cuddled up next to me when I’m sick.
He’s spoiled exactly like a grandchild. My parents parade him around as their “Grandpuppy.” They take him to my grandmother’s house showing him off. They cook him special food and buy him toys every time they go out. My mother calls me and asks to be put on speaker phone so she can talk to the dog. She knitted him a sweater for Christmas. On Sunday family dinners, my mom makes him up a special plate with cut up pieces of whatever meat she is serving.
I’ve gone on 19 first dates in the last 26 weeks. A grand puppy might be the best I can do for them.
The unconditional love of a dog gives a sense of companionship and fills a void I couldn’t meet otherwise. It takes a load of pressure off me.
And besides, he’s just so damn cute.
Nicole Alexandria is off doing cool things like a boss that you probably never heard of while not giving a single fuck all day every day. You can contact her through Facebook.