Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Public Service

[Electronic buzzes beep rhythmically, almost as if the computer monitor were purring loudly.] Hello, everyone, and welcome to today's episode of Here's What It's Like To Be Single Theater. In case you missed the previous episode, you can check it out here. But today, in the spirit of singlehood diversity training, I simply wish to offer a public service announcement.

Hmm. I can't speak for everyone who is single, but speaking of public service, just because I'm single doesn't mean that I'm available to serve my married friends hand and foot. Just because I have a free Saturday night doesn't mean that I'm available for free babysitting services. Heck, just because I like kids, and just because I'm a woman, doesn't mean that I'm skilled at changing diapers. Just ask the church nursery that I used to "volunteer" at. Please don't take advantage of me and my availability, and please don't take me for granted.

But I digress. Speaking of church, please allow me to conduct a bit of diversity training on worship-service etiquette. Let's say it's either Saturday evening or Sunday morning. Since I'm a single person who's brave enough to attend church without waiting for 20 other single friends to join me, I don't have a problem sitting alone, and I usually try to sit in the middle of an empty row so that the aisle seats will remain open for latecomers, just like the church bulletin/announcements say that we're supposed to do when we arrive early. So, I'm soaking up atmosphere and minding my own business while I'm waiting for the church service to start. Then the church service starts, and an entire family files into my row, and somebody asks me to scoot down. I like church. I like people. I like to encourage people to go to church, so I don't want to discourage anybody from attending. But please put yourself in my shoes. If I'm already feeling a little bit lonely from sitting by myself in the middle of an empty row for 15 minutes, and some latecomers shoo me away just because they need my seat, not only does it distract me from my worship time, but it also causes me to drop everything and go through a forgiveness process before proceeding. Seriously, if you see tears in my eyes during the fast songs at the beginning of the service, it might not be because I'm worshiping. It might be because I'm being treated like furniture.

Just because I'm single doesn't mean that I'm a piece of furniture. I'm also not a piece of leftover pizza. Unfortunately, I've noticed that some people seem to think that women are only good for one thing, so we single women who aren't fulfilling our only-one-thing purpose in life because we're celibate... well, we've gone to waste. To these people, we're like the last piece of pizza -- the shriveled-up one that was a bit overcooked and a bit unadorned -- that sits in the takeout box in the refrigerator and is forgotten until it emits an odor that announces to the entire household that the takeout box, and its expired contents, must be disposed of. At least, to these "I have no idea how to relate to you because you're not reproducing" people, the fact that we're minding our own business and getting whooped at and whistled at and talked about loudly by a group of teenage little boys... well, supposedly that should be flattering. I'm sorry, but I'm here to tell you that being treated like a piece of meat by perfect strangers who we're old enough to diaper is about as flattering as being treated like a piece of pizza.

We single people are legitimate human beings. And more than likely, we didn't choose to be single -- we simply choose to wait for the right person to marry, even if that means dying single. Quite frankly, most of us who are "called" to be single or who simply don't want to get married are already at the monasteries or convents. We hurt when we spend yet another night alone, we ache when we enjoy yet another weekend without anyone to share it with, and we sigh in frustration when we realize how loudly our biological clocks are ticking. And yet...

While we're waiting, we single people are becoming excessively strong individuals. I can't speak for guys, but I can say that we single women have learned, by sheer necessity, how to do things such as juggle insane working/cleaning/volunteering schedules, haul and unload two weeks' worth of groceries twice a month, and tighten a loose toilet-seat lid. (Not necessarily simultaneously.) We multitask. We prioritize. We achieve.

And, yes, we yearn. In fact, please DON'T ask us if we're dating anybody, because that innocent little question could send us from "Yay, I'm on top of the world!" to "What the bleeping heck is wrong with me?" in no-time flat. Look at the ring fingers on our left hands. If they're naked, that probably means we're not engaged or married yet. If there isn't a guy hanging on my arm and mesmerized by my every word, there's a very strong chance that I'm NOT dating anybody. If my conversation with you didn't start out with something like, "Hey, how's it going? I have a date this week!" there's a very strong chance that I'm still single. If I become very vulnerable with you and discuss a certain guy that I have a crush on, being asked later "Hey, whatever happened with that crush?" will probably NOT be my favorite question to be asked, either. If we single women knew how to turn a crush into a spouse, well, we wouldn't still be single.

Not that singlehood is a disease that's contagious and must be cured or else. "Oh, you're single? Ooh, my Uncle Guido just got out of prison, and he's single, too" does NOT make me want to go window-shopping for wedding dresses. Hello, I'm a CHRISTIAN. I love JESUS first. I'm extremely SERIOUS about purity. Please DON'T suggest that I date an atheist. I'm not saying I have anything against atheists; I have friends who are atheists. I'm just saying please use a teensy bit of common sense. And, I mean, get to know me. If my favorite running joke is that I have a boyfriend named Jacques who flies me to the French Riviera on his jet, and I swoon over exotic-looking, dark- or-silver-haired men, then no offense, but your severely obese, shaggily bearded redheaded cousin Bubba, whose biggest aspiration is to drink an entire keg of beer in one sitting, probably ain't gonna sweep me off my feet.

Going back to the subject of church, just because we're single doesn't automatically mean that we're supposed to attend the church singles group. Maybe we don't go because we don't feel welcome. Or maybe we got tired of defending our right to be there. Or maybe we got tired of getting chased by perverts who the jerky singles pastor did nothing to defend us from. Perhaps we got tired of getting slapped in the face with "you're single and you're lonely, you're single and you're lonely, you're single and you're lonely" every single week. Or perhaps instead of focusing on our singlehood, we choose to focus on our interests. Single people have other interests besides checking out other single people. Some of us like to sing. Some of us are artists. Some of us like to serve behind the scenes and learn how to be strong, content, and productive wherever God has us.

So, please keep these things in mind the next time you meet an involuntarily single person. That person hopefully won't be single for much longer and would like to be treated like a valid human being in the meantime. (And, no offense, but we single women are more than likely NOT interested in stealing your husbands from you. His unavailability, quite frankly, makes him about as attractive as a tree stump. Please keep your husbands; they're all yours. We're waiting for our own.)

Singlehood gives a woman toughness. Sometimes toughness can come in handy. For instance, when you walk into a store on New Year's Eve and see Valentine's Day merchandise for sale, instead of thinking "I'm a failure as a human being because I don't have a significant other!" you can think "Wow, these retailers just want my money, regardless of the holiday."

Thank you once again for joining me here on Here's What It's Like To Be Single Theater. This has been a public service announcement, and happy new year! [Electronic buzzes beep rhythmically and then suddenly stop when Singlechick awakens her snoring cat from her slumber.]

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