I have been miserably lonely for quite some time, and yet I always managed to bellyache the few times my family tried to set me up with anyone.
There was the time my stepfather mentioned to a casual acquaintance that I’d be in town visiting. He had the guy over chopping wood, waiting for me to show up. I ended up not being able to drive up that weekend. Poor guy ended up chopping a fair stack of wood. I asked my stepdad about the guy and his response was something along the lines of ‘he’s single, lives in the mountains and has some of his teeth left.’
Okay…thanks for thinking of me, I think?
My mother, on the other hand, is forever pointing out that the mailman is very nice and single, or that the bagger at the store wasn’t wearing a ring, or that the bank teller smiled at me.
Twice my sister tried setting me up with a guy who was just cruising through town on his way to a job in another state. I’m not even sure if the guy knew he was being set up on a date. It was rather painful. Of course, the wound felt even deeper as during the same date she set up one of our mutual friends with a guy who lived in town. They eventually got married. I was a bridesmaid.
I’ve been a bridesmaid five times now. I’ve been the maid of honor three times.
My family eventually gave up, or just ran out of even semi-appropriate guys to set me up with. Either way, it left me with a strange sense of relief and disappointment.