Then they always, five minutes in, think, “I SHOULD MARRY HER!” as if that would be doing me a favor and relieving me of my spinsterhood and then I have to hear all about how good they are at making kabobs and do I like rice and do I live alone and, haha, it’s so funny that you made that joke about being 29 even though you just told me your son is 33 and really, thank you, sir for all of this wit and charm and conversation, but can I get the fuck out now or could you ask me how I got to be so independent and awesome that I travel wherever I damn well please by myself instead of why am I not married? How do I do it without a ring on my finger and a man to come home to? Gosh, I’m pretty?! I should really put that to better use, I know.
I need a nap.