The Wake

“Beat it Valentine’s,” says one holiday to the other. “This month ain’t big enough for the both of us!”

“You go Mardi Gras,” I cheer her on. “Out with the day of Hallmark quips and in with the beads Bourbon Street is made of!”

Hmmm. I suspect now that you can see through my beard of commercialism antipathy, particularly among those who are, oh how shall we say, “shacked up,” “taken,” or otherwise “previously engaged.”

Oh, you know who you are. You whose Friday nights no longer include mind-numbing amounts of alcohol but instead a simple stop at the friendly neighborhood Blockbuster.

Yes, you who reach across three people standing on a crowded campus-connector bus, just to hold hands.

Yes, all of your sneaking suspicions are correct. I am currently writing from the boondocks of bachelorhood, the forests of foot-loose and fancy free, the Siberia that is the single life. But please, dear reader, know that I am not soliciting pity, prayers, or anonymous donations of cash. I am more so an advocate, educating you about the perilous world that is the single life.

Let me tell you that it’s not all coming up roses on this side of the dating fence. For instance, you think that when you have finished dating someone, and are planning to dump them (shameless plug for my earlier column – which, incidentally you are able to read on our Web site www.wakenews.org), you will be able to solve world hunger with all the free time you’ll have. Well let me tell you, as far as free time in “singledom” is concerned, I have one word for you – “Thefacebook.” Lots and lots of Thefacebook.

You think that when you are single you’ll reconnect with the friends who you undoubtedly would have lost in the depths of your relationship. But now, not only do you find that they’re dating someone themselves, they are ditching you on a Friday night, leaving you no choice but to steal a balloon sculpture of a helicopter from a freshman at Gophers After Dark.

Take heed, the world of the single undergrad can be dark, confusing, and most certainly will lead you to a life of hiding in restroom stalls! Take my friend “Colleen” who met this guy “Stu” at a bar one night. Stu was a good-looking guy who, like Colleen, waited tables at a popular restaurant downtown. They exchanged numbers at bar closing after quite the night of necking and tomfoolery, and I, the living definition of the third wheel, stared on despondently.

They proceeded to go on their first real date several days later at a bar in the Warehouse District. It was there, Colleen related to me the next day, where things took a turn for the zany.

Without any provoking on her behalf whatsoever, Stu began excitedly (or as Colleen put it “crazily”) insisting that she stop staring at other men. After realizing that expressing her confusion at his remarks only made him worse (or “crazier”), as well as catching other bar patron’s worried glances in their direction, she fled to the safety of the women’s restroom and stayed there for a half an hour while he repeatedly left messages on her cell-phone blaming his behavior on his bad decision of mixing Nyquil and alcohol that evening, even as he insisted that they “had something special.”

Yes, life in “singledom” will keep you online until five in the morning, fanatically running after freshmen in Coffman Memorial Union or dashing into bathrooms in fear. It’s enough to make you want to throw on some beads, grab the nearest drink, and ignore the big cardboard hearts that threaten to poke eyes out. In fact, you probably saw me on Monday, in a sea of red and pink, wearing yellow, purple and green.

Vincent Staupe is a staff writer for The Wake and welcomes Mardi Gras-tinis, as well as comments at office@wakenews.org.