Single men die alone in rooms that stink of socks and armpits," so opines a friend of William Wilberforce in the new movie "Amazing Grace."
The friend is, of course, trying to fix Wilberforce up with a wife.
This comes as part of the most heavy-handed, hysterical attempt at matchmaking I've ever enjoyed - I identified with the realism of it.
Just like Wilberforce, my friends, too, seem to lack any ability at subtlety. I've been cajoled, wheedled and begged to allow some friend to find me a match.
The annoying part is that, unlike Wilberforce, I almost enjoy blind dates and fix-ups. I know I'm weird in my predilection.
I also understand why most singles avoid this particularly annoying habit of the happily married.
THE MARRIEDS VS. SINGLES
One such friend admitted a fix-up she'd recently orchestrated ended in disaster. I commiserated and reminded her that the odds run against her efforts.
What the happily married often forget is that, for most of us mere mortals, it takes more than effort to make a match. Spark is a rare thing and not subject to the will of friends.
The unhappily married have an even more difficult time, I've noticed, as they imagine all singles out dancing their night's away. Actually, that only happens on Thursdays...and most weekends.
Still, I welcome their interference. I assume they fix me up with men they think I have something in common with, and I try to find that connection even if it is only a similar taste in friends.
LACKING CHEMISTRY
A recent fix-up went very well - at first. Imagine our surprise at discovering we appeared just as reasonable, rational and fairly good-looking as promised.
Our enthusiasm and good conversation led to four more dates, but not chemistry. And then, sometimes chemistry is not enough.
I often attend the family parties of a good friend. One time, conversation among the entire gathering turned to my tragic status as a single, as my friend sees it. She begged her family to please recommend single men who could rescue me from my deprived state.
That's when they all pointed to the very attractive man seated near me: still-single, cousin-in-law Steve.
I welcome suggestions on how to respond when this happens. I tried to smile, hoped I blush prettily and stumbled through desperate topic changes, but failed to end interminable minutes of embarrassment.
I did flirt with Steve, later, although being charming is difficult enough without the whole family watching.
I agreed to meet Steve at another family gathering the next day. In the meantime, my good friend warned me off. Turns out, her cousin-in-law enjoys the largesse of his girlfriends to pay his bills and keep him in the lifestyle to which he has grown accustomed.
I assume someone else in the family pointed out to Steve that I was not able (and certainly never willing) to keep him in any style beyond genteel poverty.
He continues to flirt with me at gatherings, but we've neither pursued a date.
NOT ALWAYS 'HAPPILY EVER AFTER'
Another movie, "Grand Canyon," best sums up fix-ups for me.
On a blind date arranged by well-meaning acquaintances, two characters blunder awkwardly through small talk. One of them finally muses to the other that their friends' decision to match them might have come from their being the only two black people these friends know.
I feel like that. At times, I believe friends set me up because I am the only vaguely reasonable, passingly sane, single woman my friends know.
Unfortunately for single people everywhere, both movies mentioned end happily with the blind dates leading to love.
We'll just have to wait for the movie that shows the real story - the one about fix-ups that lead to the stink of armpits and socks.
Sofia lives in North Seattle and can be reached at needitor@nwlink.com.
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