Ever have one of those deep, straight-from-the-belly, independent, unburdened, unencumbered, long, loud, boisterous laughs after hearing of the problems of people in relationships?
I laugh like that every time somebody (usually in the military) asks me if I’m married. I can’t help myself. No matter who asks me, or where we are, I suddenly explode in uncontrollable laughter. Me? I ask. Married? Surely, you must be joking! Do I look like the married type to anybody?
It’s even funnier when it’s from somebody who should know better than to ask. I’m the furthest thing from a responsible person. Not to mention I’ve got the mind and maturity of a young, emotionally-stunted child. Those out there in internet land who know me know this to be true. I’m not the marrying type, unless the broad is old, sassy and close to death. Kinda like Joan Collins from Mommy Dearest. She’d be interesting to hang out with, don’t you think?
Once people discover that I’m enjoying a hassle-free life, they start to radiate waves of pity, which confuses me. As far as I’m concerned, guys in relationships are severely suffering from Stockholm Syndrome (sufferin succotash! Dig the alliteration!) You know, that thing where hostages end up forming close bonds with their captors. Then they forget how life was before they were trapped in a relationship.
“But Josh, that’s so harsh! Damn, you’re jaded about relationships!” you’re saying to yourself. “Relationships are wonderful things that bring great joy and happiness into the lives of people.” To which I say: Go sit and spin!
The life of a relationship-free person is an enviable life. It’s a life of freedom and independence. A life of leisure, where one doesn’t need to bow down or concede to anybody. It’s a simple life of contentment and quiet pleasure.
When I come home at night from work, (I lease out use of my stomach for washing clothes) I get to watch whatever I want to on television. I get to cook whatever I want for dinner and sit as comfortably as I want to on the couch. I can drink as much as I want, without anybody hassling me about it. I get to fart as loudly and as often as I want. I can leave the toilet seat up whenever I piss. I get to go to sleep whenever I want and hog as much of the bed as I desire.
They seem like simple pleasures, true. But it’s the simple pleasures that add up. As a semi-selfish person, I enjoy not having to share my stuff unless it’s by choice. As a loner, I have absolutely no problem hanging out by myself.
When I go out I don’t have a curfew. Nobody to check in with. I don’t have anybody to answer to. I can just go out and enjoy myself without fear of making some chick irrationally jealous. I can disappear for days if I so choose, (I don’t have any pets, just a half-dead fichus.) It’s nice.
Oh sure, I’m probably missing out on some stuff. Another source of income to mooch off of. A guaranteed person with which to go out to dinner, or the movies. Somebody to nag me to death about trivial minutiae. Somebody to clean up my stuff so that I have no idea as to the location of any of my shit. Somebody to throw away something of value to me by accident or stupidity. Somebody who gets on my nerves so often, by saying or doing something stupid, that I contemplate smothering them with a pillow in the dead of night.
And of course, having sex with the same person over and over and over and over and over* until it becomes routine and boring and one or both of us end up cheating on the other, or our sex drives wither and die from lack of new, interesting encounters.
Gee, all of that sounds so swell! I’m totally missing out on a relationship! When I get back to America, the first thing I’m going to do is go out and find a soulmate who will make my life miserable and whose life I can make miserable in return! Jay-Z had it so wrong! It’s not enough to have 99 problems! I need more female-related problems in my life! Dammit, my plate isn’t full enough! I need heartache, depression, stress, desperation, body-image concerns, performance concerns, paranoia, jealousy and much, much more!
Single people, no more being shackled by the term “Lonely Hearts.” Claim your unfettered status! Rejoice in your freedom! You don’t have to feel bad, or like less of a person because you’re alone. Trust me, you’ll end up being sucked into a relationship eventually. It happens to just about everybody. You might as well enjoy your life and your freedom before you’re forced into a relationship (or series of relationships if you manage to keep escaping) where you’ll be stuck for the rest of your life. Relationships are like a prison cell, being single is the freedom that comes from not being behind bars.
Don’t believe me? Nelson Mandela was wrongly imprisoned in a South African prison for 27 years. He led a brutal and miserable life 365 days a year, for over two-and-a-half decades. Within months after his historic and monumental release, he divorced his wife. You know why?
He realized he was just moving from one kind of cell to another.
*And over and over and over