Weddings And The Single Girl

For reasons which I still cannot fully understand, the state of a person's love life is still considered a suitable topic for small talk. In fact, I would hazard a guess that certain people, even if faced with the news that the queen has abdicated after being caught in an uncompromising position with Paul Burrell, would still manoeuvre the question around to "so, are you seeing anyone yet?".

This is particularly true among relatives and is an issue I was forced to dwell on at some length after spending the weekend at my younger brother's wedding. I'm not ashamed to admit that it was two days of near-mental torture. While the groom, 27-years-old and far too young to be getting hitched in my opinion, spent the weekend basking in the glow of congratulations and wedding presents, I was greeted with pitying looks, wafting around in a distinct fug of eau de spinster.

To give my relatives some credit they at least waited until after the vows were exchanged before probing me on my love life. But then my younger step-brother piped up with "why aren't you married" and the floodgates opened.

Unprepared, I'm ashamed to admit that I mumbled the usual twaddle about "Mr Right. Waiting. Busy with work etc" but it wasn't until I was safely back in London and seeking comfort from friends and a bottle of gin that I realised there were some far better responses I could have given.

One, the mature and aloof, "I'm not going to talk about them". Shame them for being so trivial and gossipy. After all there could be, and in fact are, many other things going on in my life and it smacks of something distinctly anachronistic for all talk to focus on my ring finger's shameful nudity. Moreover, it's nosy: I'd never enquire about the state of their marriage or sex life, so why do they feel the need to pry into mine?

Secondly, there's the immature but amusing option of blaming them. In my more petulant moments I have been known to tell my parents that my therapist's advised me to keep away from serious relationships for a while. When pushed into an uncomfortable corner there is much relief to be found in insinuating that you're too dysfunctional to form a healthy adult relationship. Freud may have been discredited on many issues, but most parents still react with guilt if you imply any lingering emotional troubles.

This is particularly true if your parents are divorced, as mine happen to be. There's nothing quite as grating as people that have floundered spectacularly at marriage asking why you haven't signed up yet. In any case, pointing out the divorce statistics to prying relatives can be an effective put-down.

Then there's the equally wicked faux-honesty approach. Next time someone asks why I haven't settled down with Mr Right I'm sorely tempted to launch into a big lament about the Mr Wrongs I have known: tragically pouring my heart out about my seeming inability to get involved with someone who isn't married, commitment phobic, alcoholic, workaholic or worse, until they run screaming uncomfortably back to the buffet table. Or I could just tell old Aunt Debra that I much prefer being promiscuous while gravity is still on my side and watch her choke on her goats cheese tartlet.