Why I Love Singlehood: by Elisa Lorello, Sarah Girrell Page A

I’ve written my dreams in that chair. I sat on Shaun’s lap, and later missed it, all in that perfect chair.
    Sitting in the stillness, a thought came to me: Tonight was my first date in almost two years. I’d never gone so long without even one date. And certainly I’d never experienced anything as contrived as this. Even blind dates had the element of surprise going for them.
    I stood up and padded over to my writing desk, turned on my laptop, and stared at the screen for a moment. First I checked e-mails. Lovematch.com alerted me to two new messages. A wave of disgust came over me after perusing them. More promises of happily ever after. More photos of strangers trying to impress me.
    “Damn catalog shopping,” I muttered aloud.
    I hopped on and off Facebook, then skimmed The Grounds’s bloglist hastily, in a daze, before looking at the clock; it was getting late. I didn’t want to call Minerva or Olivia or anyone else and start going through the play-by-play of the date. But I felt the need to say something .
The WILS Dating Rules
I love singlehood like I love vanilla chai lattes and cookies. But that doesn’t mean I don’t date from time to time. For fun, you know? Anyway, it has come to my attention that there are some things that cannot be excused, some things that should never have happened in the first place. And should you decide to leave your single lair to enter dating territory, you should be aware of them. So here, dear reader, are a few simple rules for the dater.
     
Rule #1: Get her name right.
Know it, use it, and for God’s sake, say it correctly. Especially if she makes a point to say it for you, and particularly if she insists that no one ever gets it right. It’s her name, for crying out loud. It’s part of her. Show some respect. However, should you find yourself tripping over your own tongue, cursing the day you decided to try to become un-single and wishing that all girls were Jills and all guys were Larrys, do not blame her parents. Do not ask what they were thinking. Ask what her name means, ask where it’s from, ask her to repeat it or spell it, but please, please, please, I am begging you, don’t ask what possessed her parents.
     
Rule #2: Don’t monopolize the conversation.
If you’re in the middle of your life story and you feel the need to come up for air, stop. If her eyes are glazed over and she’s past the point of fidgeting, stop. If the waiter comes to take your order and you’re still going strong by the time he returns with your meals, stop, Stop, STOP.
Please.
     
Rule #3: Never admit to having Googled your date.
That one is self-explanatory, yes?
     
Rule #4: Don’t call women “bitches.”
Even if you’re sure she is one, it’s just not right. In fact, let’s try to steer clear of foul language in general when one is in a classy location and out to impress. Think about what you’re saying. Think etymology. Think sexism. Think, for crying out loud! I understand that vernacular language is strewn with things you’d never say in front of your grandmother, but the slurs relegated to degrading humans by calling them womanly? Frankly, I think they could be erased from the English language altogether.
And I can’t stand when women call men dogs either, by the way.
     
Rule #5: Never utter the words “So, why are you still single?”, “What’s wrong with you?”, “What’s your problem?” or any combination thereof.
Ever.
     

The Deal Breakers
     
    HAVING SPENT THE last two months going on Lovematch.com dates, I was ready to call the whole thing quits. Despite subscribing to an introductory three months with a few more weeks to go, I stopped checking the site and started deleting the e-mail alerts to new messages or winks, not to mention the barrage of invitations to extend my membership for another six months at a reduced rate, assuring me that finding love takes time. But I was sick of the fabricated constructions of myself and my dates, sick of the