Monday, 21 May 2007

‘Avoid the head of the table’ and other fun games for single losers.

Being single isn’t as bad as you may think. I get to wear what I want when I’m chilling at home, I can buy dessert and eat the whole damn thing and I get to hog the entire bed because it’s mine - all mine mwah ha ha! That’s not to say there aren’t moments when I think about how it would be nice to have someone ‘there’ but for the most part, I manage not to cry myself to sleep each night (unless I’ve spent too much time in the company of my good buddy vino - have you two met?), but really, that hardly ever happens. Not often at least. Ahem.

So yeah, I’m quite good being on my own - I like my own company and I’m slowly developing the confidence to do my own thing. I can even arrive at a restaurant before my friends and order a drink, on my own. Ooohhhh... aaaaaahhhh... But what I cannot - CANNOT - tolerate is going for dinner with a large group of friends and being seated at the head of the table simply because I have no ‘plus one’. If you’ve ever watched Bridget Jones’ Diary (what am I thinking? Of course you have!) picture the scene where she goes for dinner at a friend's house and is seated at the head and singled out for being, well - single. That was me.

So sorry to upset the balance of the table, but seriously - did the punishment really fit the crime? No, I didn’t think so. Nonetheless, there I found myself heading the table and feeling all-too-single while my friends took pity on me and went out of their way to include me in their conversations. Multiple. Oh poor little me... my extended pity party (more on that another time) caught its second wind and so there I was - ordering the waiter to keep the wine coming - anticipating its ‘everything’s going to be alright’ effect yet painfully aware that I looked like a lonely alcoholic. Even the waiter made a light-hearted comment about (and I kid you not) my alcoholism. (Goodbye Mr. Tip!) I knew he was joking but it still cut deep.

A couple of hours later, I abandoned my post at the head of the table and limped home, tail between my legs. It’s funny how a person can feel fine with being single when they’re in their own company but as soon as they’re treated as a single person, it starts to hit home. Not nice. I’ve tried to enjoy being single - after all, I won’t be single for ever, and I want to make the most of it. But what’s not cool is being made to feel a little pathetic, even though it was completely unintentional on the part of the dinner organiser. A word of advice for the future - unless the table is round, always book for an even number. There’s the odd chance the chair may not be filled but at least it won’t single out the person who was brave enough to go out on their own.

Moan session over.

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