A 3-Year Plan?

I find that I’ve become one of the boys which is an interesting vintage point to view the world from. I don’t suppose it greatly helps my (apparently half-hearted) quest for Mr. Right, but it’s a price I pay happily. Being surrounded by 5 jamaas at a bar doesn’t really count as one of the attributes of ‘wife material’ I think, but I could always check.

Seating with the boys makes me think that whoever authored the Mars & Venus thing was really on to something. The topic of conversation on this day was my single status. The married to single ratio of this group of boys was about 50:50. One earnestly tells me that I will never get married because I am too intelligent. 

“Excuse me?” I ask surprised. 

“Well you see,” he explains taking a sip of his beer, “No man wants to come home to a woman he can’t wow with his knowledge of current affairs, or the happenings in foreign countries. What’s the fun in going home and in a moment of brilliance quipping that you hope that the milk in the tea doesn’t have melamine like that in China, only to be told that in China it was baby formula made by such and such corporation.”

“They were the Sanlu Group and I think it was milk powder,” I say unthinkingly. 

“I rest my case,” he responds with a smile as the rest of the boys break out in laughter.

“No. She’ll get a man, so long as she hurries it up before her sell-by date,” another says, while adding to me, “which is quick approaching, no?”

“Is that menopause?” I ask and immediately notice the collective albeit discrete cringe.

“Nooo. It’s just that guys will begin to wonder what’s wrong with you if by a certain age you’re still single and bila kids,” he explains.

“Oh? How long do I have?” I ask.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t push it beyond 3 years …” is the answer. I guess that the virtues of alcohol is that it numbs the effect of such comments on the offset but these are issues that will certainly keep me up later in the week.

The conversation goes on and on and I’ll share snippets of it later. Age is understandable; senior bachelors will always be more attractive than any bachelorette but, hey! That’s just society. But that the challenge of a woman who knows what’s going on beyond her front door would be too much to bear is just odd! Next time I go out I’ll introduce myself as a tea girl and upon being told that the Berlin Wall came down I’ll  flutter my eyelashes and ask “What’s that?”

Have a simple day.