Thursday, July 12, 2007

Someone to Eat Cheese With

I was never a serial dater in college. I dated a few guys, but nothing was ever very serious and I can’t say that I think I missed out on too much. But at my college commencement ceremony last year (and apparently every year because I think college presidents have a stock commencement address socked away), our President informed us that we’d most likely met our future husband/wife at college. That was entirely distressing, but like most of the advice/comments/helpful (read: not very helpful and more depressing than anything else) I received in the run-up to my quarter life crisis inducing graduation from college, I didn’t was “an inconvenient truth” if you will.

Somewhere along the line, my generation decided to skip the memo about debaucherous twenties fueled by drugs, sex and alcohol. Instead, my closest friends have shacked up and gotten married, or are on the verge of doing so. College, apparently, was where the debauchery began and ended, and I often find myself having conversations with friends about cookware and weekend trips to quaint towns frequented by retirees. This wouldn’t be so troublesome to me if I was a) a retiree or b) in a relationship. I am the one of my friends who is single, and as I tread the waters of corporate America, I find that I’m probably going to be that way for a while. And though my friends are married (or close to it), I think the only reason why I'm truly concerned is because I fear my college President was correct, and that the only time I ever had access to a huge pool of prospective husbands has slipped passed me while I pursued what I thought was the point of college; a degree.

I spend 8-10 hours a day at work, and by the time I get home, I don’t really have the energy to go to a bar and attempt to find guys. Nothing is less appealing to me than the club scene, so where do I go to find Mr. Right? The answer would appear to be work…but that leads to potentially treacherous waters. The people I share cubicle space with are by and large at least a decade older than I am. An added bonus is that they’re also almost all married, and so as a force of habit, when I see a cute guy, I first check his lefthand before making eye contact.

Written out, these concerns sound truly pathetic. And I realize that I'm quite young and shouldn't be so concerned, but...I can't help it.

The one thing that this whole experience has afforded me is the opportunity to cultivate a crush. I haven't had a real, true crush since sophomore year of high school. And the difference now is that in high school, I allowed myself to harbor fantasies that my crush and I would one day go to a dance together or maybe even on a real date. My friends and I passed notes that had his name written in the margins and I tried desperately to sound intelligent in the Honors English class we had together. Now, my days are spent trying to catch a glimpse of my office crush as he saunters down the cubicle aisles, but do so without him knowing. I avoid talking to him at all costs and have doubled back to my cube when I see him making his way to one of my neighbors. I won't lie; it's a bit of a thrill to get that stomach flip or a flush of red to the cheeks when he comes near. But eventually, this will all get old, and I'll circle back to the President's words, wondering which of my former flames, college classmates or group members will be the man I spend my evenings watching obscure foreign films and drinking tea with.

1 comment:

MsPuddin said...

Debauchery in college is a given. A husband not so much. Looking back if I would have saw potential in the men I dated in college I might be divorced by now.

Live your life girl, love will come when the time is right…