Hey, you, Some Guy. It’s me, Some Girl. I guess we might as well have a life together. We’re on a schedule here. I’m in my mid to late twenties; you’re two years older than me. We’re at about the same level of attractiveness. We have comparable educations. I need to mate, and you’ll probably do as well as anyone else. Let’s begin this typical courtship process, shall we?
You want sex? Fine. Roll around on me for a while. Whatever gets this moving. Are you done? Good. Now go tell your friends about it. And have a good time, you won’t be seeing much of them any more.
I guess we should go to some movies and maybe a concert or two. That was nice. Now let’s get in a fight and then make up. Good. Now let’s go camping. While camping, let’s take some pictures of us camping that we can hang up in our cubicles to remind us of the time we went camping. That will be a cherished memory.
Okay, I guess it’s time to move into an apartment together that’s about ten miles away from my parents’ house. Let’s live in this apartment for a year. Let’s go to a Memorial Day barbecue at my parents’ house. Good. Okay, time to get married.
When you propose, don’t try to do anything cute like putting the ring in my wine glass or having a sports mascot bring it to me at a ball game. It’s all been done before, and you are not a very creative person. It would probably just come off as cheesy and forced. Just get down on a knee and get it over with. New Year’s Eve works fine for me.
Our wedding will take place a year-and-a-half from your proposal. It doesn’t really take that long to set up a wedding; I just want to relish the fact that we are getting married for as long as I possibly can. During that time, I will be the center of attention. Sadly, this will be the highlight of my life. I have no aspirations to write a great book that will change the way people think, I don’t want to travel the world and witness the majesty and diversity of foreign lands, I don’t want to dedicate my life to intellectual or philosophical pursuits in an attempt to take my mind places that no one has ever gone- I just want to look skinnier in my dress than my bridesmaids. Okay, that’s done.
After the wedding, I will take a year to reflect upon the wedding. I will send thank-you notes, watch the wedding video countless times with whomever will sit through it with me, and show people pictures from the wedding that they have no interest in seeing.
Soon, everyone will tire of my wedding talk and I will no longer be the center of attention. It is time for us to buy a house, so that I have something else to talk about. It will be a three-bedroom ranch home with a semifinished basement.
You will turn the basement into a rec room with a bar. This will be pointless, as you will rarely see your friends any more, and when you do, they will have neither the desire nor the time to go down and drink in our basement because they’ll have mated too. Your masculine rec room will soon be cluttered with children's toys and my infrequently-used exercise equipment.
When people stop talking to me about our house, I will decide that we should have kids. I will take the fun out of sex by incorporating science and scheduling our intimacy around my ovulation cycle. We will conceive.
When I am pregnant, I will have something to talk to people about again, and everyone will pay attention to me. I will act as if I am the first pregnant person ever. Eventually, I will give birth, just as billions have done before me.
Our children will be adequate, but not spectacular. You will want them to be athletes, but they will lack the size and skill. I will want them to be creative but they will lack the talent and drive. Despite this, they will eventually mate, too.
We will move into a larger house to accommodate our growing family. You will build a deck off the back of the house that we will use twice a summer. We will briefly contemplate an above-ground pool but in the end will decide against it, citing cost and practicality.
There will be several dogs.
We will vacation. Myrtle Beach will be our destination of choice, though we will be no strangers to Orlando.
Our kids will leave and we will move into a condo, citing cost and practicality. We will retire. Now the waiting truly begins.
Our children will provide us with unremarkable grandchildren. We will photograph them and discuss them at length.
You will die of heart complications. Your funeral will be relatively well-attended and will last for just over an hour. Following it, some of us will go back to the condo where there will be a tray of cold cuts for sandwiches.
I will remain for eight more years, watching television and slipping away into dementia. I will die. Doctors will call it natural causes, but in reality, I will have semiconsciously willed myself to stop breathing out of boredom and defeat. It will be done.
You can pick me up at eight.
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