It's official: I am the last single girl in my group of friends. Carol, my roommate and partner in crime, came home this morning with a huge smile plastered across her face. I knew as soon as she skipped into the living/my bedroom that she had gone to the dark side. Every woman knows that big fat smile. It’s the smile of a woman who is officially a part of a couple. It is the smile of a woman who will soon replace the words “I” and “me” with “we” and “us.”
Carol just stood in the middle of the living room/my bedroom smiling at me for what seemed like hours before I finally said something.
“So how was last night?” I ask with lackluster enthusiasm as I squinted up at her through the morning sunlight. Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling as she sighed deeply with the smile still plastered across her face.
“Well…” she started through her Cheshire Cat grin. “We went out to dinner at this Caribbean restaurant that was so good and then we went back to his place…” she trailed off.
“So you really like Ronny then huh?” I asked.
She looks sheepishly at the floor and sighed again. I could tell from the look on her face that she is remembering some cute memory from last night and it made me want to jump out of bed and slap her.
“Ronny just makes me feel so good about myself,” she said. “He’s always complimenting me. I’m not used to that! It’s just really nice.”
“So are you guys are like together then?”
“I don’t know… I guess…”
How did this happen?! I ask myself as Carol rambles on about how great Ronny is. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for her! I’m over the moon for her! She is an intelligent, beautiful, fun young woman and she should be with someone who sees that. I am happy for her and sad for myself.
Over the past year all of my close girlfriends have gotten boyfriends. One of them is currently living with hers and two others are discussing doing the same. Carol was the last girl in my group who was free for sushi and martinis on Saturday night and brunch on Sunday. Our phone conversations were never cut short because (insert male name) is calling on the other line, has just arrived, or is already there and is feeling neglected. We both enjoyed going out for dinner and drinks followed by more drinks and dancing. Over dinner we'd bitch about how men suck and on the dance floor we would dance with boys and men whose names we would forget or never know. We did what I thought all the other twenty-somethings were doing New York: being carefree and having fun. But apparently when I was out dancing on bars, shooting Jack and Patron, and giving out fake numbers everyone else was pairing off like this was the second coming of Noah and his arc.
I did not get the “everyone is coupling off” memo and now I am doomed to dining by myself at the bar of trendy New York restaurants, eating ice cream in my pajamas on the couch on Saturday nights, and getting up early enough on Sundays to have breakfast not brunch. I still occasionally go out with "the girls" for "girls’ night out" which really means: "the only night away from my boyfriend this month." But instead of discussing men’s shortcomings we will discuss the cute thing Devin did this week, or how sweet Justin is, or if Jessie sees her self marrying Manuel. Occasionally, I point out that I am the only single girl left. Everybody has boyfriends! Geraldine and Andy, Lauren and what's his name, Simona and Victor, Sam and Justin, Natasha and Devin, Jessie and Manuel, Chanel and Matthew and now Carol and Ronny. The girls sigh, roll their eyes, and say that being in a relationship “isn't all that its cracked up to be.” Natasha tells me that relationships take work (as if I didn’t know). And Jessie reminds me that I have so many things going on in my life right now that I should really concentrate on my career, or the lack there of. When I am feeling particularly needy I complain to Sam (she’s the nice one) that I don't know why I can't find a boyfriend.
“I'm not asking for a lot,” I whine into the phone. “I just want a manly man who is smart, funny and taller than me. I go out all the time and try to meet people! But the only guys I meet are losers or just trying to sleep with me. I mean, Jesus Christ, looking for an eligible bachelor who wants a relationship in Manhattan is like looking for the goddamn Holy Grail! I'm smart, funny, and interesting. What's the problem?” By the end of my rant I am screaming into the phone. Sam is silent and I suddenly feel self-conscious and ask: “Am I really annoying or something?”
“Oh my God!” Sam exclaims in her sweet voice. “You are not annoying at all!”
“Then what is it!?” I whine as I wander around my kitchen looking for something full or carbs, sugar or fat, or ideally all of the above to comfort me.
“Maybe guys are just intimidated by you.”
“What?! Why would I intimidate a man? I’m an out of work actress who is hostessing for a living!” I scream into the phone.
“They aren’t intimidated by your job!” Sam giggles. No matter how much I yell and scream Sam always maintains her sweet disposition. “They’re intimidated because you are beautiful, intelligent and have a strong personality.”
Sam likes to tell me that my alleged beauty intimidates guys every time I complain about being single. Although it makes me feel slightly better, I know is a load of bullshit because models and celebrities are never without boyfriends and husbands.
“Sam,” I say sternly. “That’s bullshit!”
“Oh dear,” Sam sighs. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What am I going to do with myself?”
About Me
Friday, November 7, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Single Girls' Heaven
Early on a chilly autumn morning in October I woke up to the ringing of my cell phone. It was my friend Natasha inviting me to a party in New Jersey. Her boyfriend, Devin, who is on the US National Rowing team, and his teammates were having an October Fest. Party.
“What’s October Fest?” I grumbled as the symptoms of a hangover began to set in.
“ It’s some German Holiday and all the guys get together and drink beer,” she explained in her usual chirper tone. “It’ll be fun! They’re getting kegs and everyone is bringing food. And you can flirt with all the crew boys...” I could hear her grinning through the phone.
“Are any of them single?” I asked hopefully as I slumped out of my bed and shuffled into my kitchen for a much needed glass of water. If I was going to go try to impress the US Rowing team in New Jersey I was going to have to shake this hangover quick.
“Yeah, I think some of them are,” Natasha said vaguely. “So do you wanna come?”
“Hot guys and beer. Do you even need to ask?”
“I know,” she giggled. “Meet me at Penn Station in an hour.”
“An hour?” I coughed, but she had already hung up. I looked at my cell phone for a moment in disbelief. Did Natasha really expect me to shower, put on makeup, pick out an outfit that made me look thin and like I was trying too hard, and get all the way from the financial district to Penn station in an hour?! It couldn’t be done… Or could it? I took a long sip of water and ran through possible outfit options in my head: Black dress? No. Prairie dress? No. No dresses! I’ve got it: Grey tank top, the jeans that make my ass look good, converse, the cool necklace an ex boyfriend got me from Paris and my burgundy cardigan. Perfect. I just might be able to do this! I thought as I glanced at the clock. I had already wasted four minutes. I slammed my glass down on the counter and ran into the bathroom to shower.
As I walked up the driveway and into the sizeable backyard of a small ranch style house in Princeton New Jersey, I was shocked by what a saw: Fifteen… no twenty… possibly even thirty of the most attractive men I had ever seen in my life sauntering around the yard. There were all-American blondes with freckles and blue eyes, exotic brunettes with dark skin and long thick eyelashes, and everything in between. And best of all: They were TALL!! All of them were at least 6’2’’ and 200 lbs. of pure muscle. I felt as if I had died and gone to Single Girl’s Heaven.
“THIS IS WHERE YOU’VE ALL BEEN HIDING!!” I screamed in my head as my eyes fell on a tall dirty blonde with a shaggy haircut. He was wearing a hideous hat made of orange yarn, and dirty flip-flops that looked like they should have been throw away fifty wears ago. I decided that even though he lost point in the attire category, he got extra points for his strong chin and sparkling smile. I fell in love immediately.
“Who’s that?” I stammered not taking my eyes off the 6’4’’ Godly creature before me.
“Who?” Natasha asked clearly not seeing the Greek God in front of us. How could she not know who I was talking about?
“The one in the ugly hat.”
“Him?” she asked pointing in his direction.
“Don’t point!”
“Oh sorry,” she giggled.
“Yes him.”
“Oh that’s Mark,” she said in a dismissive tone. “Why do you think he’s cute?” she asked. Was that disgust I detected in her voice?
“I dunno,” I said suddenly feeling self-conscious. I decided that we should probably just drop the subject. Men who look like Greek Gods are never single.
“Well he’s single,” Natasha said with a smile.
“Is that so?” I asked as we made our way over to the keg. “So who else is single?” I asked in a stage whisper. Although Mark was cute I didn’t want to put all my eggs in one basket.
“Um,” she began looking around the backyard. “Well Mark, and…” she trailed off.
“They all have girlfriends don’t they?”
“Well, not all of them…”
I took a second look around the yard and for the first time saw fifteen, no twenty… maybe even thirty thin, bubbly, brunette girls and curvy, smiley blonde girls standing next to the Greek Gods.
How could I have possibly thought that these men would be single?! They were tall, fit, straight men that had discipline, drive and passion. They were the epitome of a great catch to a twenty-something woman. Twenty-somethings in Manhattan would kill to bag one o these guys. If there is a straight tall good-looking male within the tri-state area some girl has already snatched him up. I cursed myself and Natasha as we worked our way around the yard talking to all the gorgeous giants. After five minutes of conversation a bubbly girl would pop out of nowhere and wrap her arm around the waist (or whatever part of the body she could reach) of the guy I was talking to. There would be a moment of awkwardness as I was introduced to the girlfriend. Natasha and I would make small talk for three or four minutes and then move on.
What I thought was going to be a great day was turning out to be an extremely depressing one. After meeting all the men on the Crew team and their girlfriends or fiancées with lackluster enthusiasm, I refilled by glass of with more beer and I followed Natasha to a large picnic table on the patio and sat down in a huff. Natasha sat on Devin lap and nuzzled into the side of his neck.
Someone shoot me please, I thought as I again took a look around the yard. How did I go from being in single girl’s Heaven to single girl’s hell?
Just then a tall lanky dirty blonde guy in a worn out t-shirt, poorly fitting khakis, and ADIDAS flip-flops shuffled over to the table. His name was Justin and he had attended Standford University with my older sister, Natasha, and Devin and was one of Devin’s best friends.
“This is Justin,” Natasha announced in my general direction.
“Hi Justin.”
“Hi.”
“So were you friends with my sister at Stanford?” I asked as I shaded my eyes from the sun and tried to look up at him.
“Yeah!” he said enthusiactically. “We had a class together and we…”
Suddenly Justin’s cell phone rang. He quickly reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and looked at the caller ID.
“Is it Alice?” Natasha asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” Justin mumbled and, without another word, he flipped open his phone and shuffled off to the corner of the yard where he sat on a hammock and talked on his phone.
“Alice lives in London,” Natasha told me when Justin walked away.
“Wow, that must be really hard,” I said vaguely and began to guzzle my beer. The only thing that was going to make this party better was being drunk. After finishing my beer I excused myself from the table to refill my glass at the keg in the middle of the yard. As I stumbled back to the table I ran into Justin. I smiled politely at him and continued stumbling across the yard.
“Hey, do you know the name of the theme song to that “Flavor of Love” TV show?” Justin asked me as he followed me back to the table.
“Are you asking me that because I’m black?” I asked dryly.
He looked surprised and a little offended. I couldn’t tell through my drunken haze whether it was the comment or the fact that at that very moment he realized that I was black for the first time that was throwing him off.
“No.”
When I reached the picnic table one of the crew guys was sitting in my seat with what I assumed was his girlfriend on his lap necking. I stared at them bitterly for what was probably a moment too long because they stopped and looked at me. I quickly looked away and shimmied through the crowd of giants to find Natasha and Devin. When I found them they were talking to Karen and Peter, who were recently engaged. As I walked up Natasha was admiring Karen’s engagement ring.
“It’s phenomenal!” Natasha exclaimed with enthusiasm.
“I had to get a manicure after we got engaged because everyone keeps looking at my hand,” Karen giggled. She was a short blonde with a cute laugh and a sweet face. Peter, her fiancée was standing on her left. He was also on the crew team and was a tall brunette with a strong nose and warm brown eyes. They were an absolutely adorable couple. They were so adorable that I wanted to throw up all over them… or maybe that was just the six beers talking…
“Oh Honey I’ve been looking all over for you!” Natasha said when I appeared by her side. “I think we’re going to head back to the city. Devin and I are tired and it’s getting late. You don’t mind do you? I mean, we can stay longer if you want…”
“No,” I slurred. “I’m tired too. Let’s go home.”
“What’s October Fest?” I grumbled as the symptoms of a hangover began to set in.
“ It’s some German Holiday and all the guys get together and drink beer,” she explained in her usual chirper tone. “It’ll be fun! They’re getting kegs and everyone is bringing food. And you can flirt with all the crew boys...” I could hear her grinning through the phone.
“Are any of them single?” I asked hopefully as I slumped out of my bed and shuffled into my kitchen for a much needed glass of water. If I was going to go try to impress the US Rowing team in New Jersey I was going to have to shake this hangover quick.
“Yeah, I think some of them are,” Natasha said vaguely. “So do you wanna come?”
“Hot guys and beer. Do you even need to ask?”
“I know,” she giggled. “Meet me at Penn Station in an hour.”
“An hour?” I coughed, but she had already hung up. I looked at my cell phone for a moment in disbelief. Did Natasha really expect me to shower, put on makeup, pick out an outfit that made me look thin and like I was trying too hard, and get all the way from the financial district to Penn station in an hour?! It couldn’t be done… Or could it? I took a long sip of water and ran through possible outfit options in my head: Black dress? No. Prairie dress? No. No dresses! I’ve got it: Grey tank top, the jeans that make my ass look good, converse, the cool necklace an ex boyfriend got me from Paris and my burgundy cardigan. Perfect. I just might be able to do this! I thought as I glanced at the clock. I had already wasted four minutes. I slammed my glass down on the counter and ran into the bathroom to shower.
As I walked up the driveway and into the sizeable backyard of a small ranch style house in Princeton New Jersey, I was shocked by what a saw: Fifteen… no twenty… possibly even thirty of the most attractive men I had ever seen in my life sauntering around the yard. There were all-American blondes with freckles and blue eyes, exotic brunettes with dark skin and long thick eyelashes, and everything in between. And best of all: They were TALL!! All of them were at least 6’2’’ and 200 lbs. of pure muscle. I felt as if I had died and gone to Single Girl’s Heaven.
“THIS IS WHERE YOU’VE ALL BEEN HIDING!!” I screamed in my head as my eyes fell on a tall dirty blonde with a shaggy haircut. He was wearing a hideous hat made of orange yarn, and dirty flip-flops that looked like they should have been throw away fifty wears ago. I decided that even though he lost point in the attire category, he got extra points for his strong chin and sparkling smile. I fell in love immediately.
“Who’s that?” I stammered not taking my eyes off the 6’4’’ Godly creature before me.
“Who?” Natasha asked clearly not seeing the Greek God in front of us. How could she not know who I was talking about?
“The one in the ugly hat.”
“Him?” she asked pointing in his direction.
“Don’t point!”
“Oh sorry,” she giggled.
“Yes him.”
“Oh that’s Mark,” she said in a dismissive tone. “Why do you think he’s cute?” she asked. Was that disgust I detected in her voice?
“I dunno,” I said suddenly feeling self-conscious. I decided that we should probably just drop the subject. Men who look like Greek Gods are never single.
“Well he’s single,” Natasha said with a smile.
“Is that so?” I asked as we made our way over to the keg. “So who else is single?” I asked in a stage whisper. Although Mark was cute I didn’t want to put all my eggs in one basket.
“Um,” she began looking around the backyard. “Well Mark, and…” she trailed off.
“They all have girlfriends don’t they?”
“Well, not all of them…”
I took a second look around the yard and for the first time saw fifteen, no twenty… maybe even thirty thin, bubbly, brunette girls and curvy, smiley blonde girls standing next to the Greek Gods.
How could I have possibly thought that these men would be single?! They were tall, fit, straight men that had discipline, drive and passion. They were the epitome of a great catch to a twenty-something woman. Twenty-somethings in Manhattan would kill to bag one o these guys. If there is a straight tall good-looking male within the tri-state area some girl has already snatched him up. I cursed myself and Natasha as we worked our way around the yard talking to all the gorgeous giants. After five minutes of conversation a bubbly girl would pop out of nowhere and wrap her arm around the waist (or whatever part of the body she could reach) of the guy I was talking to. There would be a moment of awkwardness as I was introduced to the girlfriend. Natasha and I would make small talk for three or four minutes and then move on.
What I thought was going to be a great day was turning out to be an extremely depressing one. After meeting all the men on the Crew team and their girlfriends or fiancées with lackluster enthusiasm, I refilled by glass of with more beer and I followed Natasha to a large picnic table on the patio and sat down in a huff. Natasha sat on Devin lap and nuzzled into the side of his neck.
Someone shoot me please, I thought as I again took a look around the yard. How did I go from being in single girl’s Heaven to single girl’s hell?
Just then a tall lanky dirty blonde guy in a worn out t-shirt, poorly fitting khakis, and ADIDAS flip-flops shuffled over to the table. His name was Justin and he had attended Standford University with my older sister, Natasha, and Devin and was one of Devin’s best friends.
“This is Justin,” Natasha announced in my general direction.
“Hi Justin.”
“Hi.”
“So were you friends with my sister at Stanford?” I asked as I shaded my eyes from the sun and tried to look up at him.
“Yeah!” he said enthusiactically. “We had a class together and we…”
Suddenly Justin’s cell phone rang. He quickly reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and looked at the caller ID.
“Is it Alice?” Natasha asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” Justin mumbled and, without another word, he flipped open his phone and shuffled off to the corner of the yard where he sat on a hammock and talked on his phone.
“Alice lives in London,” Natasha told me when Justin walked away.
“Wow, that must be really hard,” I said vaguely and began to guzzle my beer. The only thing that was going to make this party better was being drunk. After finishing my beer I excused myself from the table to refill my glass at the keg in the middle of the yard. As I stumbled back to the table I ran into Justin. I smiled politely at him and continued stumbling across the yard.
“Hey, do you know the name of the theme song to that “Flavor of Love” TV show?” Justin asked me as he followed me back to the table.
“Are you asking me that because I’m black?” I asked dryly.
He looked surprised and a little offended. I couldn’t tell through my drunken haze whether it was the comment or the fact that at that very moment he realized that I was black for the first time that was throwing him off.
“No.”
When I reached the picnic table one of the crew guys was sitting in my seat with what I assumed was his girlfriend on his lap necking. I stared at them bitterly for what was probably a moment too long because they stopped and looked at me. I quickly looked away and shimmied through the crowd of giants to find Natasha and Devin. When I found them they were talking to Karen and Peter, who were recently engaged. As I walked up Natasha was admiring Karen’s engagement ring.
“It’s phenomenal!” Natasha exclaimed with enthusiasm.
“I had to get a manicure after we got engaged because everyone keeps looking at my hand,” Karen giggled. She was a short blonde with a cute laugh and a sweet face. Peter, her fiancée was standing on her left. He was also on the crew team and was a tall brunette with a strong nose and warm brown eyes. They were an absolutely adorable couple. They were so adorable that I wanted to throw up all over them… or maybe that was just the six beers talking…
“Oh Honey I’ve been looking all over for you!” Natasha said when I appeared by her side. “I think we’re going to head back to the city. Devin and I are tired and it’s getting late. You don’t mind do you? I mean, we can stay longer if you want…”
“No,” I slurred. “I’m tired too. Let’s go home.”
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