It’s Thursday night and crowded with young professionals like myself who just want to let loose and perhaps get laid if opportunity strikes. Thankfully, my still-single-and thus not moony-eyed-friend Jules is waiting for me in a booth near the back. Even so, I’m in a tetchy funk as I head into my favorite neighborhood bar for a muchneeded vodka tonic. But after years of dating, years of searching for that spark and getting only tiny flickers, I’m done waiting. I see the happiness being in love has brought my friends. Not that I don’t believe in love I dwell under the blinding light of its shining splendor almost every day. I mean, who among us hasn’t watched the great Adam Sandler bellow “Love Hurts” in The Wedding Singer and empathized? Maybe that’s just me. Not very eloquent, I realize, but that’s my general sentiment at the moment. THERE İS a time in a woman’s life when her friends start finding their true loves and suddenly everything is a couple’s deal, complete with private looks and inside jokes that you’re no longer part of, and ugh! Somebody hand me a drink already and get me out of this nightmare.
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