by Grace Anders
|I am far from walking down any aisle in a white dress.--by Bernice Sheppard via Flickr|
As a result, I'm able to do many things without having to consult anyone else --- like leaving Brooklyn and going out in Manhattan in the evenings, or taking a vacation. I've noticed a trend, however, which I'd like to publicly denounce on behalf of single people everywhere – the surprise pseudo blind date. I went on a trip with friends recently and experienced this first hand.
I'm a freelancer, so I work from my computer. Thus, when I have the opportunity to leave my Williamsburg nest and travel somewhere fun, my computer and I often make the trip. Last week, I ventured with friends to the Caribbean for a scuba diving trip. The cast of characters was myself, a married couple (my friends) and a friend of theirs whom I've met several times. Male. Single. Clearly I should have seen where this was going when they asked if I wanted to “hang out” with them and 'another friend' for a few days.
|Scuba diving sounded like a fantastic getaway!--by SteelCityHobbies via Flickr|
- Caribbean customs agents
- Flight attendants
- Other attractive men at the bars. (This one I took especially hard.)
Here's a list of who thought this all was funny as hell:
Everyone but me
What really bothers me about this blind date tactic (aside from the fact that the Gloria Steinem in me is outraged that I can't go anywhere without expecting to be 'coupled up') is that people seem to be downright surprised --- and sometimes irritated --- that I don't want to 'hook up' with their friends.
|The Gloria Steinem in me doesn't appreciate the setups--by MarnieJoyce via Flickr|
On this most recent vacation, I literally had to defend why I didn't want to sleep with him. It was almost as if I owed this guy attention, as though he'd been brought for me and I was rejecting the surprise. The only surprises I like are waking up to unexpected snow days, finding crumpled-up cash in jackets I haven't worn in a while, and realizing that my airline frequent flyer bar is out of the free red wine and is now serving the good stuff gratis instead.
This surprise blind-date thing has happened to me on several occasions since I've been in New York City, and I've yet to find a proper way to make it clear that I have no intention of being paired up without offending anyone. It's usually implied – not explicitly stated --- that the spare male was brought for me, so it's a bit awkward to go out of my way to state my disinterest. I don't want to make a nice guy feel bad, but I don't want to have to apologize for not jumping on him the second I walk in either. I admit it might be different if the spare guy were, say, a dead ringer for James Bond, but so far the candidates have mostly just been Odd Jobs.
On a lighter note, there were a few positives to being referred to as "the wife.” I got to jump ahead in the Caribbean customs line (couples check in together!) and mooch off his first-class ticket to score primo seating. Plus, I certainly drank far more beers than I actually paid for. Beyond these mentions, this vacation wasn't my idea of the perfect escape from life in the big city.
|Set me up with your friends who resemble James Bond, please.--by DaveMcLearn via Flickr.|