Saturday night.

Since I reached my quarter century of age, I decided I was going to be more diligent in my efforts to find a partner. 

I love being single, theres nothing like it.   You can do what you want, where you want, when you want with whoever you want. There’s no one nagging you to do otherwise.  It’s the best life. Many of my friends are also single so we can enjoy this time together.  You have a certain freedom that you give up when you settle down but since I only have three quarters of a century left, I figure I should settle down with a suitable male. 

Now I’m a normal girl.  There’s nothing out of the ordinary about any of my features. I’m regular everything, hair, skin, features, everything.  Being single, you know it’s only a temporary address.  It’s like living in a hostel, eventually you have to move out. Yet the question I get asked the most is why I’m not already married.  In response, I like to tell about my most recent Saturday night.

On a regular Saturday night, I like to take the opportunity to socialise.  How else will you meet someone? So I  put some effort into my appearance and head out, with my friends, to an establishment that allows for suitable socialising to occur.

 As I sit at the bar, I am approached by a male with rather attractive features.  I straighten up, give him a little smile, look him in the eye and he says “You have a very big……..nose”. Not the start I was hoping for.  I find myself unconsciously touching my enormous nose to the point that I can no longer continue the conversation and ever so slowly move away.

I  drift towards the other side of the bar where I hope the normal people are hanging out.  Not too long after approaches.  My drink is almost out and I’m secretely hoping he offers to buy another. Really, it’s not too much to ask.     Instead he says ” Your skin is so…..white” Thanks for that Captain Obvious.  I hadn’t noticed until you pointed it out. But now that you did, I’m going to cover up every available inch of skin to prevent further cencouragement of cimilar comments from your friends.  And did you meet my ” You have a very big nose” friend?  I think you two would get along.

I then change tactics and head for the dance floor.  Shamefully, the only dance skills I have involve throwing my arms in different directions while bending my knees like a puppet in time with the music and hoping it looks semi like dancing.  Not surprisingly the only thing I come off the dancefloor with are sore knees.

Back to the table in the hope of finding regular men with regular chat up lines. Mr. Tall approaches to tell me I am “very long”.    Mr. Rich tells me that my eyes are ” so big and blue” .Yes, indeed, now I am sitting down, wearing sunglasses, covering up my skin and  holding my hand over my nose like I’ve had an accident with the superglue.

Eventually Mr. Random tells me I look very “unusual” and this is the straw that breaks the camels back.  I finish my drink, stand up and return home, alone.   

 The greatest problem with being single is that  although it’s only a temporary address, and until I move out I’ll move from room to room to find the best one.  Then I’ll move out.  But until that time,  as I head back home,  I take me, my big nose, white skin, long body and big eyes home and thank my lucky stars that I’m still single.

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