Last Single Woman In America

Last Single Woman In America

Adrienne BoettingerThursday,11 December 2014

The Snap:

Settle in, children, for a story of blood-curdling fear and anxiety. That’s right, we’re about to share the mystical story of the Last Single Woman in America. This woman embodies the sum of all singleton fears as one by one, her friends march down the aisle while she goes on her 25th blind date or tries out newer and more frightening dating websites. With each passing day she comes closer and closer to never leaving her house again, spending her days designing matching clothes for herself and her dog. And with each newer and more heinous “singles” event she comes to the grim realization that there is not one solitary man left who is remotely interesting and not a total douchebag.

The Download:

In my logical brain — a place I rarely visit or listen to thoughts arising from there — I know that I am not the Last Single Woman in America but goddam it feels like it’s true. Looking at the data, it’s clear that the rate of never-marrieds is at an all-time high and continuing to rise. But after consistently playing the role of everyone’s single friend throughout bridal showers, weddings, baby showers, etc., it becomes impossible not to think of oneself as having two large S’s tattooed on your forehead: Sad Singleton.

Caving to these feelings, I recently broke one of my tried and true dating rules: do not attempt to date during the holidays. This is a time when my overconsumption of cheesy holiday movies PLUS a tidal wave of Christmas cards featuring everyone’s adorable offspring combine with a healthy intake of festive beverages. As a result, my decision-making powers tend not to be the best.

So, I have no one but myself to blame for the lackluster results of a singles mingle type shindig I just attended. This event was sponsored by, one of the many websites that have caused me to bang my head into a wall repeatedly to numb myself for each new date. What added a special degree of hilarity to this event was that it revolved around the game “Cards Against Humanity.”

For those who haven’t played the game, it’s like an adult version of “Apples to Apples” for truly terrible adults with bad, bad potty mouths. With the right crowd and the right amount of medicinal beverages, it can be a rollicking good time. It’s just not the best way to get to know any of the extremely awkward men staring at you earnestly across the table while saying phrases like “three dicks at a time” or “my vagina” or “warm, velvety muppet sex.”

It’s a toss-up as to whether the best moment of the evening was when one guy didn’t know what “smegma” meant and kept demanding everyone tell him OR when none of the men at the table could correctly pronounce “clitoris” (hint: it doesn’t sound like thesaurus). Actually that was a fairly useful card as their inability to pronounce the word indicated they also probably didn’t know what or where it was.

Or maybe the best moment was when, fed up with the disappointment of the evening and masking that disappointment in a cocktail or two, I renamed a guy at my table who initially thought his name was “Adrian.” Since like the Highlander, there can be only one (and I’m it), I repeatedly called him Troy and convinced one of the awesome women at my table to forcibly take his name tag so we could cross out his former name and dub him “TROY!” forevermore.

What is the moral of this sad and scary story, you may ask? Beats the shit out of me. I know I’m supposed to say something like, “the grass is always greener” or “every cloud has a silver lining” or “someday my prince will come,” but screw that.  Go out, stay home, do whatever the hell you want. But when it comes to whom you spend your precious free time with, children, be particular. Life is too short and the days are too long to pass the time away trying to be something you’re not with people who don’t make you happy.


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Hat Tips:

Pew ResearchBuzzfeed, Image Credit: Flickr

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