Why Are You Single?

This is a question I have been asked many times in my two years of living single. It’s a weird one. Because it can imply incredulity at why a gorgeous, intelligent, humourous woman has no man, or it implies high-post diva like demanding behaviour blocking hordes of decent men beating a path to my coochie. I prefer to believe the latter. But being single is a path which many people travel in their lifetime, and this time it’s my turn.
My usual well-worn response is, “I’d like to meet someone I can have a conversation with outside of the bedroom.” But the plain boring truth is, I am picky. If you don’t eat nicely, don’t apply. Don’t know how to treat a woman on a first date, you fail at the first hurdle. If you are unambitious and unhappy with your life, misery does not need company. If you wear over-sized hip-hop clothing and don’t own a suit, I ain’t the girl.
I'd like to meet a man that inspires me to show all the good stuff that’s hiding beneath my shellac exterior. I can’t help it, but the fence is high around the soft tissue that beats inside my chest, and only the brave and fearless will have the tools capable of scaling it. Am I making it hard for myself? Maybe, yes. I like to think that I have the armour needed to screen out the fools, deceivers, and timewasters. Patience is not my strong point, and as I ain't desperate, I don't see why I should suffer the company of people that I don't enjoy being with.
But what to do about my neglected sexual needs in the meantime? I bought a Rabbit out of curiosity, and in the hope that I wouldn’t be whipped by the first dick that came along, on recommendation from other friends who said it was the best thing since oral sex. I beg to differ. The thing makes you go from point A to point Z in 10 seconds, hardly enough time to enjoy it. It buzzes so loudly, I’m sure my neighbours, let alone Mini-Me in the room next door can hear it. Unfortunately, my worst fear materialised when nosey kid found the damn thing while hanging about in my room. The conversation went something like this:
Nosey Kid says in a sing-song voice “Oh Mum, I found it. I didn’t know you needed one of these.”
Shamefaced mum tries to firm it and replies: “I don’t NEED, one of these, I just have one.”
The classic kid reply comes back: “Why?”
Think fast. “Because.”
Still thinking.
“Because some of my friends have them, and I just wanted to try it out myself.”
Bang goes the classic Mum response of do you have to jump over a cliff because your friends are doing it.
Nosey Kid looks at me with a smirk on her face.
“Look Clarke, sexually, women have needs, and I need to be able to look after them myself sometimes, because I don’t want to go out there and meet men just to have sex with them. Okay.” Too much information?
‘And please do not go labrishing this information to your friends at school.”
A smirking Clarke leaves the bedroom. The rabbit goes into a shoebox on a shelf in my bedroom. Shame guy.