COLUMN: Being single is no walk in the park
The first day of classes is always a meat market.
Whether you intend it to be or not, everyone is checking out who the hottest person in the room is. Some people are brave and seat themselves near the most attractive individual, while others prefer to maintain a very casual relationship, better known as the-staring-at-the-person-when-they-aren’t-looking-and-sloppily-catching-the-saliva-as-it-drips-out-of-your-mouth relationship.
Everyone does it, don’t try to hide it. Being single is practically a plague on a college campus. Those of us who are single, whether we want to admit it or not, are stunted by our relationship status. However, despite what an amusingly pathetic topic admitting that I am single is, there is another topic that I wish to discuss that is related, but not entirely relevant to the single rant I have been pursuing.
To best open the intended discussion, I need to tell you a few of my own personal stories on the subject.
The first time it happened to me was fall of my sophomore year.
I sat down in my Media Smarts class and surveyed the room. There were a few eligible bachelors, but I tend to be attracted to personalities as well as looks, so the final candidates were not quite determined. Finally, the teacher walked into the room, and for starters, was a total babe. It really was a shame he was not younger; he was a brilliantly designed canvas, a male Mona Lisa, sheltered by advanced security systems that made him completely unattainable.
However, despair was not the feeling of the day, because thirty minutes into the class a person I refer to as “Romantic Boy,” opened his mouth. I was caught after the first sentence. He was perfect. Intelligent, confident, cool, well dressed, tall, dark, handsome…. need I say more? I proceeded to keep my eye on this individual for the next few weeks.
Every time he spoke I would write a plethora of notes in my head on ways to captivate his attention. When we were assigned group projects my little heart wished with all its might that the fates would throw us together.
Alas, it was not meant to be, and my hope slowly faded. Well, after a few months I start dating a relation of his and come to find out he was married the entire time.
Next case. It is the next semester in another journalism class, and I keep my eye on a guy all year. I even let myself think he is interested too. I convinced myself that he was going out of his way to take the same routes I did to class, not letting myself admit the very conceivable, and all too real, coincidence that we just happen to be journalism majors who take very similar classes–duh. Well, obviously, he was engaged.
Same semester I develop a crush on another kid, and guess what, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles–the guy has two kids. I have a few other stories like this, I seem to be perpetually attracted to the unattainable.
So time marches on, each semester I get closer to graduating, and each semester the percentage of eligible candidates in my classes goes down.
However, never before, until this semester, had it become so apparent that everyone and their dog was taken. I am one of seven individuals in one of my classes who isn’t married, and four of us are girls. The same pattern has repeated itself in most of my classes but it has not yet stopped me from participating in the meat market ritual. Similar to previous years, but more blatantly, I have failed at the first day dating game.
It is so embarrassing to scam on a married person, I cannot even tell you, and I am sure all of the married men on campus, not to mention their wives, are probably sick of me.
Rings are too small. Some people don’t even wear their rings on a consistent basis, and some people wear meaningless rings on their ring finger, when they are perfectly available. Altogether, its a messy tangle of confusion.
So, I have a few very reasonable solutions that are in favor of everyone, the campus singles and all of the happily marrieds. If we could adapt one of these systems on campus it would save us all a lot of trouble.
MARRIAGE SEATING ARRANGEMENTS
What if all of the married people sat to the left side of the room, and the lonely single individuals could sit to the right side of the room? That way we won’t have the awkward run in I typically get when I try to strike up a conversation and realize that not only are you taken and uninterested, but you are practically terrified that I am smiling in your general direction. I apologize for being way too forward, as smiling in general is such an unacceptable attribute.
COLORED NECK HANDKERCHIEFS
All married people could wear bandanas around their necks, cowboy style for men, Parisian for women. Not only is it insanely fashionable-trust me- but instantly noticeable.
FRAMED PHOTOGRAPHS
This one is a personal favorite. Every non-single individual could carry around a framed photograph of their sweetheart. When you get to a class, simply place the photograph in a decorative position on your desk. This is a bonus for everyone. Not only is it an aesthetic bonus to the white walled classrooms we all have to suffer with, but you get the pleasure of gazing upon your true love’s face during the most boring of lectures.
NAME TAGS
This one is for those of us who are single and looking–desperately–no, I am serious, you need to be pretty desperate to go along with this one. What if we all wore name tags? You could get creative, perhaps add your favorite color or movie as a byline to your John Hancock. This way all of us singles can get to know one another in a more organized manner, and everyone else can have a good laugh at our expense.
Well, I have run out of reasonable ideas, but if you have solutions please let me know. When all else fails, form a support group. We could bond over our sob stories of love lost before we even had it (long before we even knew the person really), eat Doritos and cream puffs, watch tragic movies like my personal favorite, “Becoming Jane,” cry a little, and form lasting friendships.
This situation is very real, if you haven’t experienced it yet, you will, and trust me, when it does happen, you will wish you had taken my advice.
Lindsay Anderson is a junior majoring in broadcast journalism. She can be found sitting on the right side of the classroom with her bright green nametag wishing the attractive guy next to her wasn’t married. Questions and comments can be sent to her at lindsay.anderson@aggiemail.usu.edu