“You should try eHarmony.”
This unsolicited piece of advice coming from the aunt who apparently thought she was “helping”. The only problem is that we were in the midst of exchanging greetings and cupcake recipes. I’ve often thought back to this very moment and wondered how long she’d been waiting to offer me such valuable and helpful information.
This is why I don’t care much for family functions.
It wasn’t that I don’t absolutely adore discussing my challenges with commitment over Thanksgiving dinner; I really just didn’t feel like going into a diatribe about my online dating history in front of an audience of children, women wearing polyester, and men in sweater vests.
Naturally, at the mere mention of eHarmony, everyone decided to jump in and share with me how their best friend; Mrs. So & So’s daughter; the grocery store checkout girl; one substitute teacher; a former roommate; and a partridge in a pear tree had all tried online dating and found the “best guy/girl ever”. I’m pretty certain all the fore mentioned have weddings planned for this spring. And I’m not invited to any of them.
So, with a feeling of defeat…
So, with a feeling of defeat and a new mission to never encounter these familial vultures alone again, I went home, logged into my dating account and set out to find the “best guy ever”. After all, if Mrs. So & So’s daughter could find somebody – I certainly could.
I logged out of my account, made a vodka tonic and turned on OWN. That episode with the surprise flash-mob for Oprah gets me every time.
So the next time my auntie asks me why I’m still single and tries to “help”, I’m going to pull out the picture of Mr. Tongue and ask her if she could kindly give me the rest of that red velvet cupcake recipe she never finished giving me last November.
If that fails, I’ll just kick her and run away like any mature woman in her 30’s would do.