Friday, November 12, 2010


I was sitting in the backseat of Matthew's car last night on the way to Dad's Garage, when I realized. I'm the third wheel. I'm actually on a date with my friends Matthew and Carol, two really awesome people, and super fun, but in a relationship with each other and not me. Have I become that person? I mean, it's one thing to be young and hanging out with your dating friends, but I'm 30-something with a job, and a sense of responsibility. I had this bazaar vision of myself at 50 in the same position. Hey! Let's invite our funny single friend, Caroline, along! She can sit in the back and make jokes about the date MST3K style. And that's pretty much exactly what I do. But hey, I look damn good while doing it.

So, in general, my third wheel status doesn't usually occur to me because I'm so awkwardly starving for attention anyway. However, next time I demand that someone whisper sweet nothings into my ear, so I don't feel too ostracized. It doesn't have to be sexy. You can say things like "man, kittens are awesome!" You just have to lean in close and whisper it in my ear. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!

Does Seltzer count as water?

I'd go so far as to say that I've spent so much time with myself this past year, the two other people in my company are the 2nd and 3rd wheel on my unicycle. It takes a while to figure out the correct balance for riding one of those, but once you do, it's exhilarating. So, if anything, joining a couple for a night of free/discounted fun is pretty much like riding a tricycle, and I get to be the big wheel up front, the one that determines the direction in which the unit goes. I win!

Is it obvious that I'm an only child?


grace rebelda said...

OK, first of all, the word is "bizarre," not "bazaar," which is a flea market. And be thankful you at least have a job! Here I am at 50 (well, actually over 50), wondering if I get invited to dinner at my friends' house for a meal out of PITY. (Though I am useful--I always contribute something, even if it's just cupcake papers or a bag of carrots or buttermilk or red cooking wine.) And at my age, I can't really demand that someone whisper sweet nothings in my ear because I probably wouldn't be able to HEAR them ("What did you say? You want my number so you can vex me? Why would you want to do that?!?")
Being the ancient dinosaur that I am, this is the first comment I've ever left on a blog, and I'm damn proud it's on yours.
Though it appears my response is about me, it's really to say this--having known you for about half a year now, I think you reflect all the sights and sounds and smells (ha) of a bazaar, i.e., colorful, songful (yes, that's really a word), a gourmand, sexy, awesome, and anything but awkward!
Love you, chicky!

chrishaley said...

This post reminded me of this comic: