Wednesday, January 22, 2014

You Thinking About Dying Anytime Soon?

Who died and said I have to answer to you when it comes to the progress of my life?

For full effect, download “Yakety Yak” by The Coasters and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

“So are you dating anyone these days? How’s the love life?” says every single jerkoff wearing a wedding ring that I have a conversation with.

Me: “Oh it’s great. You know, just dating here and there, things are going pretty well.”

Married Jerkoff: “Well if I were you I would really look to start settling down sometime soon.”

If I were you? What kind of a phrase is that? Are you implying that I’m a failure at life because we didn’t make the exact same decisions in college? I’ll tell you what, if we switched places I would go ahead and pull the telephone pole right out of my own anus that makes me be such a condescending prick to every one of my single friends and judges them for not being strapped down like the rest of the married world. That is what I would do “if I were you”.

In your eyes life is a competition. It’s a grudge match where we are pinned against each other vying for the honor of best human being. Since when do any of us have to compare our accomplishments? Just because you settled down with the first pair of legs that walked your way the second you got home from some foreign land like Millwaukee, does not mean that you are a better individual than I am.

This world thinks we are all in some race pushing for the same endgame of having a ridiculously large family with a never ending number of stick figure stickers on the back of our minivans. Now I understand the importance of setting goals and striving for accomplishments especially when it comes to the concept of having a family, but I do think that saying my life is a failure thus far just because I haven’t met my mate is a little bit douchey.

And yes, I did just say douchey. Go ahead, call me immature.  

How would you feel if every single person you knew turned the tables and threw your own judgmental medicine right back at you when you asked how close we were to getting married? Tying the knot does not give you a free pass at never doing anything productive in your life again. Just because you settled down does not mean you shouldn’t try to improve your life in other aspects.

“Hey Married Pete, how’s life? You given up watching porn yet? You know you really should. Life is so much better without disgusting habits like that.”

Yes, that’s how awkward it feels every single time one of you asks why we are losers without a spouse. It’s the equivalent to us poking fun in public at your secret dirty addictions.

Why is my life gauged by how soon I am going to find a spouse? Why can’t the caliber of who I am as an individual be graded by other influences like education, high-class friendships, and overall quality of life? For some reason the world thinks that every 28-year old man who doesn’t have a ring on his finger is living the most barren, most empty, most unproductive existence imaginable.

In your eyes I’m a prisoner, without the ball and chain.

Can’t you all just take a break? Just relax for a few short seconds, and not make this giant world we live in a conglomerate competition? When I go home for family reunions and I begin small talking with my 93-year old Great Grandma, I’m not asking her how soon she’s going to kick the bucket. After all, when you’ve been on this Earth for almost a century, that’s pretty much the next/last attainable goal possible. Last I checked it’s not a race to see how soon she’s going to be dying.

I guess the bottom line, and I say this on behalf of every member of the Single People’s Union, is to stop asking us when we’re going to get married. Life isn’t a freaking race. So what if you’ve been hitched for almost a decade and just found out you’re having your 8th kid. You don’t see me asking you when you’re going to get your tubes tied do you? I don’t ask because the status of your life, and your goals are really none of my business.

That, and the fact conversations about your ovaries never really end on a good note. 

What do you think?

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