A Pain in the Ass

  I am single.  Technically I've been single for over a year, since my divorce was finalized last February.  Even longer factoring in the time from when my marriage/relationship ended.  And while I have been missing some companionship and dated a bit over the last year I have just now started to feel truly single.  Two events brought  this to light; one, a sort of awakening, the other, a stark realization.

 The awakening happened after (a weak, lonely moment) I started exploring online matchmaking.  "See who's out there!" the banner ad excitedly flashed.   Yes, I had been alternately warned by family-"Don't bother with that- you'll find somebody..." and encouraged by friends "Dude, a friend of mine signed up and he says all the women on there just want to get laid!"  So while I was a little apprehensive, I was definitely curious, and since my social network is pretty minimal and I'm not a "Hey, how you doin'?" pickup kind of guy, I figured -what the fuck, why not "see who's out there"? Of course to "see who's out there" you have to fill out the questionnaire and write a paragraph or two about you and what you look for in a mate.  Or at least I thought you had to do this.  After about an hour of detailing my preferences on  everything from religion to politics to kids and pets, drinking, smoking, hobbies, books, music and movies I realized I could have just done a quick search based on my preferences on as few as one or as many as twenty or so criteria.  Oh well, it was kind of a pain in the ass, but I had signed up.  At least for the basic deal (also known as FREE) but if I really wanted to show my commitment (already!?!) to my search it was recommended that I enroll in the premium plan, for a monthly fee.   Uhhhhhh,  no.  I believe I showed as much commitment as I could by putting my photo on my profile.  Now that's commitment.  Seriously.  I realized this when I finally did search for some matches in my area and ended up recognizing a few (small town, shallow dating pool).  It immediately dawned on me that my face might also be showing up in their searches.  Not sure how I felt about this, but just to find out, I searched using my characteristics, and sure enough, there I was, face to face with...myself.   And about five hundred other guys. I had mixed feelings.  On the one hand, at least I had showed up.  On the other hand, now  it was out there.  Now I was out there.  On yet another hand, I think I stacked up pretty well with my competition, if I do say so myself.  You know,  if you're into bald guys with beards.

  So anyways, back to the ladies.  After searching around, reading profiles and receiving a few electronic "winks", the awakening sort of happened.  I may have been technically single for a while but I guess I  still felt attached.  Not in a "Gee, I hope we get back together" way but in a still battered and getting over it kind of way.  As I searched faces online and on the street (she's cute, hmmmm no ring...) I no longer felt that attachment.  Until then I had thought I was single, now I felt single. It truly felt like an awakening.

  The stark realization happened almost concurrently but for a far different reason.  I was skiing with my young son when we stopped for a break and a long promised treat at the "Waffle Haus". This would be an all too conveniently located shack in the middle of one of the trails, whose delicious and sickeningly sweet smell wafting up the slope tantalizes and tempts all who ski by.  Including us. EVERY TIME WE SKI BY!  Therefore  I had made a promise earlier in the season and now I had to keep it, so we stopped for one of the overpriced waffles.  Sitting at the picnic table while he happily munched, the slight incline of the bench conspired with the slick fabric of my ski pants to have me slide ever so slightly down the bench, but just enough to procure several large slivers and plant them in the seat of my pants and...yes...in my ass. I was able to pluck the toothpick sized slivers from my pants (after dropping my drawers) but that's when the stark realization hit me; how was I going to get a splinter removed from my ass?  This most definitely was not a job for Ski Patrol or First Aid.  This most definitely was  a job for a girlfriend or wife.  I felt a new kind of loneliness.  One that only splinters in your ass can bring.

Well,  I may not have a girlfriend or wife, but thankfully I do have a handheld mirror and the piece of mind that it brought me when I checked for myself , and was able to declare my ass splinter free! (just a minor wound)  So I do have that.  That, and the new sense of freedom and excitement that being and feeling  single can bring.

Hey, how you doin'?

Oh, and a tube of  Bacitracin.  I have that too.

Peace to the Planet...and all you single ladies out there ; )