Matchmaker, Matchmaker

I’m a marked man.

No, I’ve not done anything important enough to warrant a contract out on me.  I’ve not run over any pets, jinxed any sports teams or otherwise engaged the wrath of townsfolk to light fires under a straw effigy of me.  In fact, as I’ve represented myself fairly consistently through this blog, I am a comfortably average Joe.  So what scarlet letter do I bear that brands me so that I’m in constant danger?

I’m single.

Apparently, this is against one of the laws of nature.  I used to think that only my married friends felt compelled to try and match me up with some random female.   Recently, even single friends have joined the crusade.  The common refrain “We have to find somebody for you” sends a chill traveling over far more than my spine.

Despite my proclamations of contentment at my current status, I am beset with suggestions, inquiries and proposals.  When it was simply the married friends, I figured it was a normal reaction to their own happiness they wanted to share.  I wouldn’t care to speculate what it would mean if the couple didn’t get along and wanted me to get paired up, too.  I found it ironic when single friends also felt I should be “hooked up”.  Do as I say, not as I do?

As an avowed immature middle-aged man, I like to think my continued preference for being single is really a gallant gesture on my part to avoid inflicting my…unique…personality on someone – the same someone – every day.  Not to mention dozens of habits that I would have to unlearn in the compromise that is shared living.  How patient could I expect a woman to be?  At our age, she might not have that much time left!

It’s flattering that some people feel I have enough positive qualities to be a “catch” for someone.  I defer that to great training from my parents.  And, certainly, growing up living with Sis and Mom (after an early divorce), taught me many lessons about living with women (bathroom etiquette, for sure).  So, yes, I hold open car doors, wipe my feet before entering, say please and thank you and do a pretty good job listening, but let’s be real, that’s not exactly shining armor credentials.

So, in review, I have a…boisterous…personality, a lifetime of single habits and am content being single.  Surely I can just explain these conditions to my friends and they will recognize my happiness and leave me alone, right?

Sigh.  I’m doomed.

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