When I got married a few years ago it came as quite a shock to many of my friends, who knowing my fear of commitment and my love of independence thought I'd remain single my entire life. They also thought no man would put up with me - which is close to being true. FEW men would put up with me. But then, I would put up with few men.
Still, there are some very good reasons why I chose to leap (actually it was more of a crawl) into matrimony. First, I had been with my now-husband for six years when we decided to tie the knot and realized that we still liked each other (gasp - even loved each other!) even though we now really KNEW each other. That, in itself, seemed pretty incredible to me, if not miraculous. If he wanted to marry me, and I wanted to marry him after all we'd been through and knew about each other, then bring on the cake and flowers and let's get this party started!
Getting married also meant better tax breaks, legitimizing our two bastard cats, and making sure his ex-wife would never get our house or belongings. It also meant shutting up all the people who kept asking us "when are you getting married?"
But another really good reason I got married is that I just never, ever, EVER wanted to date again. Even if for some reason it didn't work out with me and my husband, I decided I was officially done with the dating scene FOR LIFE. Because I have always truly, incredibly SUCKED at dating.
I understand some people love dating, love the excitement of that first romantic interlude, that first kiss, the butterflies in your stomach as you wonder "does this guy really like me? Is he the one?" But I was never like that. I found dating EXCRUCIATING. The small talk. The questions. The WORK.
Plus - and this is not a small point - I'm a loser magnet. I know many of you probably are nodding and saying to yourself "I am too!" But no ... you can not possibly be at the level I am of attracting mass murderers, social rejects, and mental midgets. For I am the Queen of the Loser Magnets, and you - well you are just a minion. Sorry to disappoint you.
Don't believe me? Let me tell you about a couple of my more well-known dates, or men who wanted to date me. Then you will bow down before me and call me your Queen.
There was "Hank" who saw me at a bar, and decided to woo me by taking his balls out of his pants and putting them on the table. Then he kind of jostled himself from side to side in an attempt to make his balls appear to "walk." He also used a high pitch voice - apparently this was the voice of his balls - to tell me "Don't you want to come home with us, Cookie?"
No, but I'd like to stab both of you with a fork.
There was "Bill," the mailman, who was actually quite cute in his mail shorts. I met him at a bar for drinks after he asked me out, and we were getting along quite well. We had even talked about expanding our date to dinner. Then he asked me what I did in my "spare time."
I told him I volunteered at the Humane Society, and that I loved animals.
He did too, he told me. In fact, he owned a Dalmatian - a female Dalmatian that he one day hoped to breed.
But there was more. Apparently his Dalmatian got out of the house one day about a year back and ran down the street, where she had a "fling" with a regular, every-day mutt. The slut.
She managed to get herself pregnant too. But the mailman didn't want anyone to know this, since her mating outside her breed would de-value any future litter of pure-bred Dalmatian pups he wanted to sell. So he kept her in his house until she gave birth. And then ... then he drowned the mutt puppies in his bathtub.
Oh. My. God.
He told me this story with a smile on his face, like he was telling me about the big game on Saturday. He was very nonchalant about it, like "What's a guy gonna do?" I can't even imagine what my face looked like. I was in shock, and a little sick to my stomach. Just minutes ago I had been flirting with a PUPPY MURDERER. I got up, silent and stunned, and dumped my drink in his lap. Then I just walked out. I know he was yelling after me, but I didn't even hear it. I guess it's true what they say about postal workers.
There are other examples - the man who told me he was single but was actually still married and had recently gotten out of jail for throwing his wife through a plate-glass window. The lawyer whose bed was on wheels so he could "clean" under it frequently. During sex, for a brief moment, I thought the earth was moving. Then I realized the bed was just rolling down hill and he was a freak.
I think you get the picture. You may kiss my hand now.
So that is the story of why I am married, even though many people thought I wasn't the marrying kind. It is also the story of why I am eternally grateful to be married. To my husband. Who has never killed puppies, made his balls walk or speak, or thrown a woman through a plate-glass window. Thank you for saving me, honey.
And to all those of you who are still out there, hoping and dating and battling disappointments, you have my sympathies. I guess I'm proof that if you date enough frogs, you can find your prince. But man, do those frogs suck.