Sorry guys, but this is not a story about Zac Efron asking me to marry him. Hopefully that will be next weeks article… fingers crossed! So this isn’t about engagements, but more about the one question I despise hearing. I am referring to “So are you dating anyone?”
I am not sure how frequently your families pop this question, but mine usually happens at least four times a year, usually after the regular foreplay of inquiries I am presented with at family gatherings. After all of the, “So how is school?” “Are you staying out of trouble?” “Are you exercising and eating right?” questions, they finish with the kicker: “So, are you seeing anyone?”
I always want to retort with a succinct, “fuck you,” but I’m pretty sure this language wouldn’t be appreciated, especially with a seven and ten year old at the table. So instead of the vocabulary lesson, I stick to the cliché answer of, “No one has really caught my eye.” With this response I am always then badgered by the “Oh why not? You are so pretty’s” and the “But you are a TOTAL catch’s.”
But what they don’t understand is that this could be an all day conversation because there are 102,365,981 reasons of why I’m not settling and dating just any guy.
For example, most guys I meet at the bars are about as mature as the seven year old at the table who just said, “Don’t make me fart on you,” to his sister. Another reason that I’m not dating some frat star is that I tend to have more fun hanging out with my friends, watching Dark Knight Rises, and practicing my Bane voice. Trust me, I am getting really good at it. Stupid shit like that is 1,000 times more entertaining than painting my face, trying to tame my hair, slinking into a dress, and wearing heels that will most likely give me stress fractures.
After all that hard work, I would expect a bigger prize than being disappointed by a guy who really wants to show me his “movie collection” back at his place. It would be so much better if it was like “Crazy, Stupid, Love,” and I was going back to Ryan Gosling’s place, where he would show me his “Dirty Dancing” move. I would be overjoyed to divulge this to my family if that’s how it really worked. However, this is real life, and the stories I have to talk about involve the weird boy at the bar named Zim, who planted sloppy kisses on my cheek, and asked me to check out his movies. With a name like Zim, he probably doesn’t even have movies. Seriously, I shit you not, his name was ZIM… like the Invader.
To spare my family, I usually say, “Oh, I’m SUPER busy with my extra-curriculars.” hoping this will sedate their curiosity. This past Christmas, my one relative was ballsy enough to ask me if maybe there was a girl. This was a curveball, but lesbihonest, home girl don’t swing that way. Thinking quickly on my feet, I joked back, “How did you know? I do indeed hail to the V! Now that you all know my secret… could someone please pass the mashed potatoes?”
The whole table laughed, and I was finally left alone. I might need to start thinking up more creative lines, though. Here’s what I’ve come up with:
“No, but I am really finding myself more and more attracted to cars, kinda like that person on My Strange Addiction, is that weird?”
Maybe this way they will get too freaked out to ask me any more questions about my love life. It’s not like I’m going to follow in my aunt’s footsteps and marry my high school sweetheart. If I did, I would most likely be writing this article from jail for putting poison in his potpie. But that is a story I’ll save for later.
Another alternative? Pull a Jenna Marbles, and just give them the face. I will awkwardly hold it until no one, not even my little cousins, want to look at me. I think this is a pretty good plan, and then when I do date someone worth talking about, they will be pleasantly surprised that I am no longer into cars or making terrifying faces.
I’ll keep you posted!
Over and Out,
Sis xoxo