Sometimes, I’m surrounded by people who are too old and too single.
My cutoff for “old” is 30. When I meet women of that age who aren’t married and they’re obviously wonderful people, I feel a drop sad.
Truth is, most of the single people in that age bracket that I know of fit the “wonderful” category. I don’t know why. Maybe older people just have more time to work on themselves, mellowing out like whiskey in a barrel. “Single, 28 years, gently aged in a Washington Heights cinderblock box.” Why don’t connoisseurs plunk down fat stacks for these vintage finds? Beats me.
But I’m only a spectator. I don’t really know what’s going on. Which is why it always pleases me to find out that one (or two or three, in this case) of these women are pretty far along in a surreptitious relationship. On the surface I smile and say “That’s nice” but underneath I feel like clapping my hands and paraphrasing a certain Captain Sparrow, “A couple! I love couples!”
Well I do! Don’t you? Especially new couples. Their shining eyes are a pleasure to behold. But any old couple will do, as long as they’re looking out for each other, saying nice things about each other in an offhand way, and just getting along marvelously. It’s really a kind of magic, I think.
I love couples. Don’t you? So keep pairing up. I can’t wait to hear about it.