Don't Rub My Face In Your Crazy Single Life

Chandler: So you're moving on? Do you have any idea where you're moving?

Ross: I don't know.  I mean, I have plenty of opportunity.  Just now there were some women at the coffee house who smiled at me.  And then the other day on the subway a woman "accidentally" sat on my hand.  

Chandler: Dude, don't rub my face in your crazy single life!

Ross: Well, and how about this? There is an anthropologist at school who totally came on to me during the inter-departmental potluck dinner.  

Chandler: Why did I get married?!?

    
In case anyone is wondering what it’s like to be a mid-twenties single Mormon woman in this day and age, just this week I was hit on by a grandfather.  (Again.)  A THIRD grandfather.  Don’t be jealous.  

Sometimes when I call my sisters to tell them how yet ANOTHER 60-year-old has hit on me via the internets, I’m afraid that this is what they’re going to retort in my face - to stop flaunting how great it is to be single bells in 2015.  Rather, Brandon helpfully tells me I should write a book, and on cue, I roll my eyes.  

Ain’t nobody gonna be reading that book anytime son, because honestly?  Not to be dramatic, but sometimes dating online dating online dating as a Mormon person is, in summation, the LITERAL WORST.  

Okay, yes, I see you, 30-almost-31-year-olds who are on the cusp of transitioning unceremoniously out of the YSA scene, and fine.  I bequeath upon you all rights and privileges of your station.  You, you have born the mantle of singlehood and awkward encounters and dates with weird people for longer than I have, and yes, as such, you are entitled to more griping and better stories than I.  But that in no way invalidates or diminishes the ridiculousness of my experience over the last 7 years, and you know what? I still have a right.  A right to gripe.  A right to be offended when old men who are strangers (and who, yes, are purportedly LDS) ask me how many kids I plan on having.  

What I do or don't do with my uterus is none’ya beeswax, sir.  

In case you married folk are feeling any nostalgic pangs about sowing them wild oats, let me put a stop to that right now by offering you a small glimpse into what you’re not missing. 

I don't know where the rest of this screenshot went, but aside from my lusciousness, you get the idea.  

Weird, incoherent attempts at creepy poetry or something.  *SWOON* 

"Something is what prompted me [not] to write to you," friend. 

No thanks, I have purely friends aplenty, all of whom are under 40.  

But I appreciate you checking, just in case, Ghene. 

WeIrD.

Yeah, because that's how to get a lady's attention.  Let's skip straight to procreation. 

(Disclaimer: not all of these are from LDS dating sites, obvs).

What do you mean, "but?" Why can't I be both? 

My "likes" include being both modern and good. 

I'm not "advertising" because I'm not selling anything, thanks.  

Thanks, but no thanks. I wouldn't know how to talk to this person.  

NO. NOT TO A FIFTY-ONE YEAR OLD. 

I have never talked to a boy I met online about ham.  IDK where this came from. 

  

This was my first communication from the 61-year old.  (A little young, you think??) I didn't say anything to him, I just texted a bunch of my friends and asked for validation and reassurance that this was weird and creepy.  I looked at his profile and was astounded to see that he had three daughters around my age, all either in college or having graduated from college.  His profile also said that he was looking for a "young, never-before-married girl who wants to have lots of children." 

Like I said, I didn't respond to him.  But then he messaged me again, days later, asking me if I wanted to have lots of children.  Just to spite him, I responded only by firmly messaging him, "NO." 

 

This was his response ^^^.  I'm so creeped out, don't preach to me about the divine responsibilities of motherhood OR think about my future unborn children, plz.  

GROSS.  After that last comment, I responded disdainfully, "SIR.  You are older than my father." 

He wrote back "Probably, LOL."

And...this week's crowning glory: Norm, my "potential lover."  FIFTY-ONE.  He seems like a true gentlemen.  There's nothing I love more than a middle-aged man counseling me on how best to wield my sensuality.  NOT.



 So, to sum up: my love life is going great, thanks.