Thanksgiving and Singleness

I usually like to spend Thanksgiving alone, watching movies and drinking whiskey. I do drink Wild Turkey, so I’m at least somewhat in the holiday spirit, but that’s usually my only concession. But my current roommates, who don’t suck and can cook, whipped up enough food for about thirty people, and had a crowd over. A good time was had by all, with lots of wine and tryptophan-laden turkey being ingested and keeping the mellowness intact. Even a cutthroat game of Trivial Pursuit ended amicably. It did kinda suck that the one cute woman was one of my roommates’ lesbian friends, but as they are lesbians themselves, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

Not that it would have mattered. For the most part, the last couple of years have helped me to shed quite a few fears, but the stark terror of talking to a woman who interests me remains. It’s sad really, the way I immediately turn into the Squeaky-Voiced Teen from the Simpsons upon entering the presence of an attractive female, but there it is. It’s actually something of a relief when the lady in question is a lesbian, as I don’t even have to worry about blowing it with them. The situation comes pre-blown, as it were, and it’s quite freeing to know that I could be as cool as Cary Grant, and my chances would still be non-existent. Knowing you have no chance is actually preferable to just suspecting it.

As with my health, I’ve given up on worrying about falling in love with someone. I used to spend an inordinate amount of time wondering about why I hadn’t hooked up. Then, after actually finding someone, I figured out that I’m too much of a selfish bastard to be a good boyfriend/significant other. I rarely give a rat’s ass about what anyone other than me wants, and that tends to annoy everyone, not just women. It’s infinitely easier to ignore the whole thing, and enjoy the fine pornography our country produces, when I do need to ‘get something out’. That way, neither I nor my highly theoretical soul mate are bothered much.

Most people I’ve mentioned this to are taken aback at the very idea that I’m perfectly willing to spend my life as a large crowd of one. They insist that I just haven’t met the right person, which I agree with, except that I’ve begun to assume that the right person doesn’t exist. Don’t get me wrong, if I could find a girl who loved me, and who didn’t annoy me too much, I’d hook up in a heart beat. But I don’t have any particular urge to go searching for a ‘special someone’. Every once in a while, I do think about trying online personals, but about halfway through the sign-up process, I get bored and decide even that is too much work.

Of course, maybe the fact that I wanted to throw food at the happy couple that was sitting a few tables away from me at the Village Inn last night means that I’m not being completely honest with myself.

Oh, well. Wouldn’t be the first time.