Single Sympathy…

“Oh darl, I pray every day that you will find your Mr Right” says friend. *insert sound of screeching record* I’m sorry, what? When was the God Intervention? Dang, did I sleep late again?

Please save your prayers. I’m sure God has more important things to worry about. Libya, Zimbabwe, Uitenhage’s fashion crisis… to name but a few.

Being patronised to that extent should be punishable by law.

Law wielding a blue permanent tattoo gun marking the perpetrators’ eyebrows.

“Erm, thanks. I think. But no, please don’t spend any longer saying your nightly prayers than you need to, I think I’ll be ok”.

Like, what’s with the Single Sympathy, guys?

It’d be one thing if I was the token spinster tagging along like a shadow to all the couple-y things like weddings, Christmases and childbirths… But I’m so NOT ‘That Girl’. In fact, I’m ‘That Girl who is most likely to cause karaoke in public’. Singing “Raining Men” or some such other tune that annoys people in a relationship.

For the most part of my existence, I am surrounded by other singles who are happy, successful and trotting along merrily along their life paths. And then BAM! I come across an old fuddy-duddy who produces some pearler like “But you’re so pretty! Why are you *still* single?”

Because I have leprosy, aunty.

Or… “You’d better hurry dear, you have another 3 years until your biological clock goes into alarm mode”

Alarm mode or hand grenade mode?

Here’s a theory: how about I make the world a better place by being the best me I can be? And if this Batman finds THE Robin to adventurise with, hey presto! Awesome! But until then, Batman enjoys flying solo, thank you very friggin much.

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