Ping-pong singlton

I did a very irritating maneuver when I was pregnant. I even knew it was annoying as I was pressing the send button but, for some weirdo reason, I couldn’t stop myself. I saw on a website an advert for a singles Ping-Pong evening and I emailed it to my friend. I felt like it might be helpful but actually it’s just an awful thing to do. She wrote back and said it was kind but she didn’t have a single friend to go with at the moment – I just highlighted her singledom. I am a terrible person. My friend has been, in my opinion, pretty selective with her choice of friends over the years. I have known her for longer than I care to think about and she was never one to have a large crowd of mates who she sort-of knows. I would introduce her to friends of mine that I thought might add to her circle but she was never that interested preferring to keep her group down to a more intimate group that she could go to one-on-one dinners or smaller group outings so she could actually catch up with people. She is a very thoughtful friend. She is the kind of person who remembers dates and sends messages of encouragement at times when your day might be tough – she’s the kind of friend you would want and would want to be. I am a crappy friend on this front. I tend to rarely contact people and am very much of the opinion that if a friendship can withstand that kind of sloppy behavior then it’s the kind I want to keep hold of. She’s a beautiful, very successful woman and what seems to happen all too often with beautiful, amazing women she was single and I had no idea why.

So, I sent this incredibly irritating email to her and she wrote back saying that she had no one to go with. I thought quietly, bloody hell I have a ton of people you could go with, that’s what you get for being so particular! I have one friend that’s definitely single, she might turn up wearing a sailor’s hat and you do run the risk of being arrested as she can, at times, be a bit wild but it’s a guaranteed memorable evening.

That’s when I offered up my services saying, “Well, when we move in a couple of weeks, I’ll be nearer and I can come with you!”

She responded with, ‘You’ll be about 6 months pregnant by then won’t you?’

‘Yes, that’s right love.’

‘Thanks, but can you imagine us sitting at the bar? Me next to a 6-month pregnant lady. Don’t you think we might look a little…desperate?’

Well, there’s just no pleasing some people.


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