Let’s get one tiny detail out of the way. Right now. Straight from the start and straight from the heart: It sucks being the only single girl at the table.
Even worse? Hearing your gal pals talk about guys they know, mostly single guys, in the hopes of possibly giving me a chance to find someone nice, someone who will treat me like the lady and princess I am, and someone who will fight their battles against me but still like me all the same, and the end result? They’re all too old or not in the same interest fields.
Trust me, I know opposites attract, but these ones just would not mesh with me. One happened to be a vegan. How die-hard a vegan, I can’t be sure, but if a guy can’t stand the thought of me eating a juicy burger or medium-rare cooked steak, it’s a done deal. I like my meat more than any guy any day.
It might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. I like to eat, plain and simple.
We had a few beers, but I wasn’t really in the mood to be drinking. Pineapple Habanero salsa and tortilla chips along with a glass of water with lemon sufficed perfectly well for me. And Jeez, we went through three baskets of chips! Damn, they were delicious. The perfect mix of crunchy and salty — my two favorite kinds of food of all time.
Sitting with my water and listening to two other women squawk about how their boyfriends/husbands piss them on the most random things, I’m sitting there, thinking, “Be happy you have someone to be pissed at about something as stupid as whether he’s standing beside you the entire time you’re shopping at Target.”
“When I think of some of the men I’ve slept with…if they were women I wouldn’t have had lunch with them.”
Carol Siskind, a nightclub nabob, has hit it right on the money. Which is why I have recognized the fact I really don’t get along with that many women. The ones I do, great! There are a handful I tolerate. The rest? Forget about them. I’m not nose diving into your catty, passive-aggressive ways of tearing a person down, and that includes over a meal. If I want a damn platter of onion rings, I’m going to have a damn platter of onion rings!
Me? On the guy front? I have no one. Not even a dog to cuddle me to sleep when I’ve had the roughest of rough days. I don’t even have a fish to come home to watch swim around his little bowl and spew my deepest inner thoughts to after everything is said and done. I have Yoda, sitting here patiently on my couch, always watching and always waiting for me to come and sit by him, possibly use him as a pillow. He’s usually the one who sits in the passenger seat when I make a solo trip anywhere, and we talk. Or I should say, I talk and he listens with that calm smile plastered across his face.
Yoda is an excellent listener. I wouldn’t keep taking him on car rides if he wasn’t. He’s seen me sing so loud, other cars next to mine are surely able to hear me loud and clear. He’s seen me laugh on the phone with my best girlfriends. He’s seen me freak out because I’m lost in the middle of the cities yet again. He’s seen me swear and cuss at idiot drivers and at myself. He’s seen me cry over unexpected break-ups, sad movies, or terrible conversations that should have gone differently.
He’s seen me through a lot, and he will always be my Master in that sense. Why? Whenever I have one of the above explained moments, I talk to him and then the resolution usually dawns upon me just as quickly as the problem settled on my shoulders.
The radio is always playing in the car. There are songs for everybody which remind you of someone or a specific moment in the lives we’ve led so far. ‘Gangnam Style‘ takes me to a time my best friend and I were sitting on the couch after months of not seeing each other while watching A New Hope. Faith Hill’s ‘This Kiss‘ takes me back to singing karaoke at the hometown tavern a mile from my home after a successful opening night of the first summer stock show I starred in, leading role and everything. ‘The Joker‘ will always and forever bring me back to my cousin’s wedding when my most recent ex-boyfriend and I were the only ones tearing up the dance floor, and I never smiled so much in my life (and he wasn’t that much of a dancer, either.)
These moments are heartbreaking, smile-inducing, and embarrassing. Along with the great dancing moments, there are the songs that played in the background during first kisses, first dances, and innumerable flirtations. A warning for all: the Rascal Flatts is not the best tunes to be playing when you think things may go beyond kissing. Seriously, heed my words.
We’ve all been there, we’ve all been transported back in time to that one moment specific to the song. Music is a magical thing and speaks to us in way normal words never will.
Yoda knows this. He gets it.
Maybe I’ve found my dream man after all.