So now I need to prove to Hans R that I’m single. I have uno toothbrush in my bathroom and 6 pillows on my bed
.. does that work? I heard some guys on the radio describing multiple pillows
on a bed as completing their view of hell – they felt it must be what is burnt to
keep up the temperatures and complete the experience.
I’ll be honest though – I sorta-kinda-almost dated some
fellow in my time away. A nice guy by all relevant standards, but the kind of
relationship the universe rolls its eyes at while rapidly gesticulating, as though to an Eminem song, while
asking; “Haven’t you learnt a thing since you started dating?!” It was just never
meant to be.
I believe women throw the men they meet into boxes within a
couple of seconds of meeting. There’s the shagable carton, databale pine box, lovable
coffer, and the husband shrine. Then of course there’s the ever-constant “friend
zone”. I for one have a lot of male friends – but it’s all good. Some are
married so can only be friends. Others I’ve known all my life and are really
good friends – but friends who climbed into that unidirectional zone so long
ago, it would take the Enterprise’ beam to get them out.
Anyhoo, this particular fellow was friended and I was quite
happy with it. We’d hang out and chat and I’d politely push back his advances. But
Ah! Chineke! For the life of me, I can’t tell you how he weaseled his way into
other receptacles (that’s not at all what I meant! Refer to boxes above!). One
minute we’re having lunch and the next I’m planning the wedding and wondering
if I’m too old to pull off a white gown. And where would our children go to
school?
I don’t know. I have no explanation. It wasn’t me!
Long story short, it didn’t work out, and as though that
wasn’t bad enough, I was dumped to boot. The universe should use flashing neon
signs instead of being “subtle” with its indications on chances of relationship
success: “RUN! RUN! RUN!”
