As I bashed out a rather hopeful and urgent email looking for a partner in crime for a Bali holiday, I admit I didn’t expect it was going to be as easy as last time I headed there at the tender age of 21.
Most of the replies I received back were along the lines of “love to but can’t leave the kids.”
Until 24 hours later, the golden ticket email popped back which read simply, “Oh my god, I’m sooo there!” Game on.
The other single lady with the one thing our happily married parent friends can’t always put on their CV, ‘flexibility and no accountability’’. I’d been saved.
My recently divorced friend was back on the market and so we rejoiced in our ability to book on a whim.
Yes, of course we’d love to have found the so-called ‘one’ but truly believe us when we say, “when love hasn’t rolled in the door, there are other blessings to count.”
And so we were away. Well nearly. I probably should have sensed a theme cropping up as I hopped into the cab, bleary eyed at 6am on my way to the airport.
A lovely chat ensued with my new driving friend as we chatted about where he was from, and the last holiday he had had.
“And why aren’t you travelling over there with your husband?” he enquired.
There it was. The 7 out of 10 strike rate question that I seem to get as a single girl when I hop in a cab on my way somewhere significant.
And yes sure I could get all up myself and think every cabbie’s gagging to ask me out, but something tells me it’s not exactly that.
“I’m not married,” I said, trying once again not to ruin the new friendship by snarling, “how about we start with, have you got a boyfriend?” Even that as personal as it is, would surely be a more modern point of reference to start with?
And then the five or more questions and second and third glance in the rear vision just to ascertain if there was an obvious reason perhaps why I’d either been left on the shelf (mole with hair growing out), or perhaps sporting a ‘K D Lang Rocks’ t-shirt that might hint a hubbie was never quite on the cards.
“Nope, just meeting a girlfriend over there.” Pause. “Um, just there to relax.” So now I’m in that zone that I know other singles get put in, where you’re left feeling like you have to make them feel ok about me being single. “It’s ok, yes I’m single but I promise there’s nothing weird going on.”
So I arrive at Bali airport, desperately trying to search amongst a sea of signs bobbing up and down as to which driver is mine, until I find young Made.
He’s delightful, and eagerly grabs my bags and whisks me off to the car. And with a much quicker fire than my Australian driver, once again shoots off “where is your husband?” A similar answer is given, as let’s face it, I’m getting good at this.
And then the old, check the rear vision mirror, although this one seemed to linger, as if I’ve just said “by the way, I’ve just landed from Mars, can you please drive me to Roswell, thanks sir.”
But I tell you I did have to giggle, as I was shown to my room, the rose petals arranged in a heart on my bed and the young staff member says confused “Is it just you?” And then I pick up my welcome letter, that reads, “Dear Amber Petty and pty…”
Still not happy that I might be single, now it seems they’re hoping I’m sleeping with a whole company. Anything but think I’m sleeping alone.
TELL ME YOUR STORY ABOUT BEING TREATED ‘SUSPICIOUSLY’ SINGLE?