Why Being Single in San Francisco is the Shit
I’ve lived in San Francisco for the last 8 years and have been single for the vast majority of that time. Having moved here from the South, I appreciate San Francisco’s general acceptance of all people, including the perpetually unattached ones – like me. I do have moments where I get freaked out by the fact that most of my friends are attached/engaged/married/with child/ren, but generally speaking I am proud to call myself a single lady (whose eggs are likely turning grey as we speak.) I’d venture to guess a lot of people out there in a relaysh secretly miss being
cold, lonely and starved for affection riding solo sometimes. Because being single can be fucking great… Especially in a city as dope as San Francisco AND OH MY GOD I am not a person that can pull “dope” off.
Here’s why being single in San Francisco is the shit:
1. Basking in your own company is cathartic.
A couple months back I
desperately kind of wanted to go see 50 Shades Of Grey after work. The majority of my pals were screening my calls otherwise occupied so I took it upon myself to go solo. I snagged up a bottle of whiskey buttery chard, marched my single ass to the Embarcadero Center Cinema, threw down what was left in my bank account like 2653 bones for gummi bears, popcorn and a microwaved hot dog, ventured to the back of the theater and found a seat amongst a sea of sexed up couples. I felt liberated as I deepthroated munched on my hot dog, despite the fact that the couple next to me was rounding third 8 minutes into the movie. Hey, I may have been there alone but at least I had my jizz-free popcorn allll to myself and didn’t have to contort my body into unnatural positions on a flimsy, dirty movie theater chair just so I could dry hump my albino punk boyfriend every time Christian Grey spanked Don Johnson’s daughter. Silver linings aplenty, my friends.
2. Online Dating is Funny.
Join our weekly newsletter so we can send you awesome freebies, weird events, incredible articles, and gold doubloons (note: one of these is not true).
People use dating apps in San Francisco more than Kato Kalin used OJ for free rent and board back in the day. We’ve got Tinder, Hinge, Bumble – OH MY! Sure, some people take these apps seriously but others simply want to get laid – especially peeps on Tinder, which is what makes it so entertaining. My laugh lines have become wildly noticeable since I discovered Tinder and the horny little bastards that use it. Orchestrating responses to some of these squirrels in desperate need of a nut is fun to quite fun. You think if I was in a relationshit I’d be able to indulge in this kind of behavior? Not unless I had a really, really tolerant boyfriend.
3. Analyzing a text message from you crush might be more gratifying than catching a shrimp flung by a Benihana chef in your mouth.
It’s beyond fun to sit around with
9 a couple bottles of Whispering Angel and a group of your nearest+dearest to assign find hidden meaning behind a text from a guy that simply reads, “hey. how was your day?” Crafting an “effortlessly” snarky response is equally as stimulating and necessitates the same amount of focus required to successfully pop a whitehead on your upper lip line – if you don’t get it just right, the end result could be painful and messy. Bottom line: nothing captivates a single girl quite like seeking counsel from her BFFs regarding whether to end a text response to a boy with a period or an exclamation point. (Incidentally: 7 times out of 10 it’s breast to go with a single exclamation point as a period can convey overall irritation/stuffiness and you want to appear breezy and just FYI you really might want to exercise some serious caution when considering my boy advice.)
5. Walks of Shame are Kind of the Best.
When I was little I wanted to be a detective. Piecing together different parts of a story in an effort to solve a crime intrigued me and it still does. A single girl is forced into detective mode whenever she wakes up at a random guy’s house. When did I last feel my missing earring on my ear? Where is my
virginity shoe? How did I get this weird, white sticky substance lip gloss on my eye brow? Who is this warm body next to me? Fucking Christ, please tell me it’s not the guy with the twitch I played Duck hunter with at Mauna loa. It’s like Hansel and Gretal but instead of bread crumbs a single girl has to to follow a trail of earrings, condom-wrappers, empty Plan B boxes bras and shoes. FUN! So call yourself Sherlocka Holmes and get right on top of that, Rose.
6. You can do whatever the F you want, when you want, where you want, how you want.
Wake up at 3am (rocking a giant Jheri curl), feel like heating up a frozen waffle, dousing it in Nutella, whip cream, Dorito crumbs, raw cookie dough and shoving it in your face faster than R. Kelley orgasms at a urinal? Do it, sister (or brother)! No one’s judging you. You could be in a sauna playing pick-up stix with your butt cheeks whilst blaring Kenny G. if you so desired, YOU’RE A SINGLE OLIVE FEMALE/MALE, YOU CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT. Sorry for yelling.
Of course, there are many wonderful things about being married/in a relationship like joint checking accounts, terrifically douchey awkward tandem bike rides and having someone to Lady and the Tramp a single strand of spaghetti with.
In closing, I would like to assert (and this applies to each one of us, single or attached) that the older I get the more I realize that my most important relationship is the one I have with
my vibrator Number 1. 🙂