I was at the vet’s office with Dublin to get his Bordetella shot. We are enrolling him in doggie boot camp at the end of the month, and it was a requirement. Dubs used this visit to prove exactly why he is going away for 10 days. Barking, jumping, and basically behaving like he’d just railed Scarface’s supply of cocaine.
While at the vet’s office, a conversation started with a man next to me thanks to Dubs’ ridiculousness. Everyone in the waiting room knew we were there. The guy was waiting for his dog to be called back. His dog was not bothered by Dublin’s antics, mostly because he was 13 and had 1 foot on the rainbow bridge in my opinion. His dog was the kind that have that underbite and their bottom teeth always show. I still don’t understand why people want dogs like that. They aren’t cute.
Anyways, we go in and out of conversation. He mentions his kids and notes how brave I am to bring my two youngest to the vet’s office (again, likely because of Dublin’s shitty behavior and the fact that I looked frazzled). Back and forth we have intermittent light, friendly conversation about kids, school, and our local area for the next 40 minutes or so.
Finally, Dubs is taken back, given his shot, and returns. Underbite dog was still being looked at, so the man had to stay. As I was packing up the 800 snack wrappers and fruit remnants that entertained my children for the past hour, he introduced himself as “Nick” and reached out to shake my hand.
Odd, I thought to myself. Why are we doing introductions? Usually this only happens when I am at the playground or something and my kid is playing with that person’s kid.
But I still shook his hand and gave him my name. No reason not to, I guess.
He then asked me something I haven’t heard in decades, “Are you single?”
Whatt???
Immediately I feel awkward AF. Partially because the entire vet’s office was witnessing this exchange and also because my brain doesn’t recall how to deal with this question appropriately. I have never been single since I began menstruating. OK exaggerating a bit, but I’ve been with Vince in some fashion or another since we were 16. I’ve never been able to actually say yes to this question. And no one has asked me this since I was in my 20s anyways. Why was this happening now?
I was taken off guard and my immediate response was to laugh him off and say “No, do I look single?!”
I was there in my yoga leggings, Rule #7 hurricane racerback tank top (shout out to our local meteorologist Denis Philips), and croc flip flops. My hair was actually down though, having washed it the night before.
Maybe that made me look available?
But….then I recalled: my ring finger was empty.
That was the signal. Like a homing device for the single guys out there. I usually always wear my ring; however, I took it off a few days ago because it was causing some irritation. Red, dry, skin peeling. It looked like a sunburnt lizard shedding its skin. I joked to Vince that it’s because I’m allergic to being married but really, after turning down Nick and walking to my car with my wack-ass dog and my second half kids, I realized that was the furthest thing from the truth.
I cannot imagine being single.
Dating men. Having a boyfriend (ewww) – at 43 years old.
Having to try and look nice all the time when Vince thinks I’m hot even though I only shave my legs during the full moon and my armpits sometimes smell like raw onions.
Having to blend two families together and expect my kids to get along with someone else’s.
Everything in my brain says no. I know people do it all the time now. I’m not knocking you down, but I don’t think that’s for me.
I just can’t imagine starting over. Having known Vince for almost 30 years…. I don’t think that type of relationship is replaceable. Sure, he pisses me off. We butt heads a lot and don’t get along. He sniff tests his clothes to determine their wearability and starts 8 projects around the house before he finishes 1.
But he knows my history. He’s experienced my life by living it beside me. If he croaks or decides to level down and leave me for someone else, I can’t imagine starting over.
If it ever came to it, I think I would just be single for once. And maybe keep a spare ring in my wallet to avoid being picked up in places that smell faintly of expressed anal glands.