b68 (2.2-1.2010): why i am single

why i am single [1]

by joal martino

 

the purpose of this essay is to describe why i am single.

 

it (kind-of) answers the question, posed to many humanoids nowadays, which is:

 

“you’re such a nice (cool, fun, etc.) guy, why haven’t you ever been married?”

 

note: this is not a marriage-bashing essay.  we “single” people (contrary to popular belief) Love married people!  some of our best friends are married.  some of our best relatives are married.  many of us are very, very glad that our parents got married.

 

married people: we Love you.

 

it’s just that we aren’t married (yet, and maybe never will be, and maybe that’s okay).

 

b.t.w: this essay is just for me, so do not ever, ever, ever feel obligated to read it.  

it’s just for moi.

 

allow me to describe my day, so far today (it’s exactly 12:27 pm; just after/during lunch/siesta), eastern standard time.  i’ve been up since 0600.

 

the alarm jolted me out of bed at six-o’clock, and i’d set it with no time to spare, since i had a job interview at 8, and the weather was predicted to be “ice, with a wintery mix.”

 

i shut off the alarm, and promptly slithered back into bed (just for a second), only to awaken to the knowing that it was late, i was late, and i should slap myself silly (if i only had time).

 

shave, shower, go.  lots of traffic.   at 7:58 (two miles from the interview) i call “debbie” to let her know that i’m stuck on the brookshire street exit.  in my mind, the mantra “cities suck, cities suck!” is ringing -- very, very loudly.

 

instead of panic, i chill.  i breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeathe.  i smile.

 

at 8:01, i enter the interview building, and i’m actually ahead of schedule (since the committee is preparing themselves, in the interview room).

 

paperwork, etc.

 

i proceed to kick the interview’s ass.   i’m exponentially overqualified for the job, but there were 279 applicants, and i’m just happy to get into the pool of the final eight.  i flow.  i don’t need the job anyway (because nobody needs any-thing, anyway), but i let the committee know that i’d be nothing short of dynamite in this position.  yes, yes, yes, i gave them handouts, 13 potential references (true), and we spoke to each other like happy siblings at a family reunion.

 

i exit, smiling.  i thank the committee.  in the lobby, i shake the hands of the next two interviewees, and i tell them that i hope that we’ll all get hired, so that we can all work together.  i’m not lying… it’s just that i’m envisioning how these guys would do very well, working for me.

 

i call the love of my life, and (even though she’s 40 miles out of the way), i ask if she’d like 15-minutes of company before she goes off to work.

 

she (of course) loves the idea, and she prepares a giant cup of coffee for me as i approach the hacienda that can only be referred to as “casa-susita.”

 

i enter her house; i kiss her delicious face, and we proceed to express our appreciation for one-another for the next 10 delectable minutes.

 

we exit, and i drive home.  upon arrival, i proceed to throw my suit-jacket and tie onto the ironing board.  ((yes, i ironed my shirt late last night, and neglected to move the ironing board out of the living room.))  

by the way, do you have issue with that? 

 

i look left, i look right.  it’s 1013.  school has been cancelled at the college, and i’ve got the day off. 

 

i look left, and again i look right.  i open the fridge, and pop open magic hat winter seasonal (porter), and i smile, knowing that my girl would love to be right here, right Now, sharing what cheryl crowe might call a “beer buzz, early in the morning.”    another part of me is quite happy to be able to enjoy this moment by myself, in my own place, in my own time, in my own way.  and guess what?  nobody can say nothin.

i take off my shirt.

 

with siesta in mind, i begin to cook the most fantastic meal that you will ever savor, ever:

 

          ·    grilled veggies (with onion and garlic, since i’m alone)

·     blackened mahi mahi (can you say “YUM?”)

·      trader joe’s white wine (because i’m now officially “out of beer”)

 

as the adventure progresses, my attire morphs into the following:

• dress pants (belt removed, and then thrown across the living room – because i can)
• black shoes replaced by florida state university slippers (go ‘noles!)
• a fleece “providence, rhode island” sweatshirt (blue, in color)

i eat, i drink.  the cellphone is off.  there is no television, there is no noise.  …not even a bit of background music. 

nada, baby, nada.

 

…and i get to think of you, the humanoids that i love, love, Love.  …and i get to write to you, and to open-up to you. …and i get to feel Connected to you!   i Love you, and i Love this!

 

and that is why i’m single.  i’m not saying that being single is “right”… i’m just sayin’…

 

love, joal

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[1] martino, j. (2009). why i am single. book 68: wonder-Full. © 2010 by joal martino.

* but here's the real reason: you can do what you want, when you want, how you want, where you want, with who you want, for the reasons why you want... and nobody can question your reasons.  you've got no ring, no contract, no promise, no commitment, no kids, no dog, no debt... and nothing but time and options.

...and you've got no tolerance for anyone who wants you to behave a certain way (so that they will be happier).

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here's a 2025 update on the issue:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEWaeRcYbGw 

entitled "the solo man's revolution."