Changing Formats: Singlearities

I quite enjoy tweaking my medium of delivery. It is surprising how subtle changes can result in thinking about life in a different light. Points of view ever so slightly skewed from normal, and consequently potentially humourous… or plain ludicrous. You decide.

You know what people, I’m single. Oh yeah, I know you’re looking at me going, “That gorgeous bohemian hunk? Single? Now way! “. /Pause For Laughter/ But yes, it’s true. And you know how things are when you’re single, don’t you? All you see around you are couples. Everywhere you look. For as far and wide as the eyes can see. <‘accidentally’ drop glasses, squint while struggling to see> /PFL/. Yeah, sure there’s the occasional all-cozy threesome and even the unlikely ever-elusive foursome /PFL/, but for the most part, there are couples. Couples, everywhere! It’s like all the women are walking around wearing this big red sign that reads “Occupied <little glowing LED>”. It gets so bad that people forget number systems can start from one, and not necessarily two. I mean, you walk into a fancy restaurant, and the cute hostess, “Occupied” of course /PFL/, asks you excitedly, “Table for two, sir?”. Two? Why two? Here, look at me, do I look big enough to be two whole .. <look at large self> err.. wrong argument. “No miss, a table for one will be quite sufficient.” /PFL/

At one point though, and I’m waaay past that at the moment, you’ll get to a stage where such incidents stop bothering you. You even begin carrying an entire stash of random-yet-believable decoys to make sure you avoid eye contact with all those people you know are looking at you with pity. Books, the iPod, a DECORATED CHINESE FOLDABLE SCREEN /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\_____________ /PFL/. Hey, if they can’t see you, they can’t think you’re two whole people now, can they? /PFL/

Even though you’ve soon learnt to deal with the countless looks you’ll get from the four-eyed-two-bodied monsters /PFL/ roaming so freely in the wild, it’s not as easy tackling the ones you keep running into near home base. The most irritating one, of course, being “that guy“. You know, that guy who’s always going “my girlfriend” this, “my girlfriend” that? Like hello, newsflash — she’s got a name. It’s Audrey. I know, I’ve met her. You can say “Audrey and I are …”, you don’t HAVE to say “my girlfriend and I …”. It’s like he’s going, you see the “Occupied” sign on her? You do? Well, it’s here, anyway. Here. See? Here. <point to random portion of random woman> . See? /PFL/

But, it’s all not bad. Mostly bad, /PFL/ but not all. Occasionally, one of these Joe “my wife and I” Schmoes will actually bring his wife around to whatever, and then you can’t help but listen to your inner self laugh its deviously evil laugh. Ha.. hahah … hahahahahahh! <evil laugh mode… carry on indiscriminately> /PFL/. *Shudder* She’s hideous. And that nasal nagging voice, “Harold, would you be a dear and redo the dishes I’ve marked as insufficiently shiny?”. Hmm, I started the anecdote with Joe, didn’t I? I really ought to work thse things out more before getting on stage. But I’m not making this stuff up, I swear /PFL/.

Anyway, I’d definitely rather be single than married to that. /booo oooo/

What? It’s OK for the couple demons, you know with their four eyes and two bodies /PFL/, to haunt you ever so often, but can’t laugh at the three that don’t scare you?

Jeez, that’s rich, I’m leaving. <Leave>