Meditation on Singledom

Perchance, she for whom the phone rings may at once find herself in the aura of the accepted, the dream of the dateable; and perchance she may think herself so much better than she is, as that they who are about to text her, and see her state, may have caused it to vibrate for me, and I know not that. Must all of singledom be shallow? The cell phone is accessible, multipurpose, so are all its functions; all that it is communicates admittance and recognition to all. When the single girl accepts the call, that action concerns the roommates; for that acquaintance is thereby connected to that body which is the local surroundings too, and infused into that organization whereof we seek to be a member – the TAKEN. And when that call is dropped or that chat deleted, that action concerns me: all society is of one service-provider, and is one on-going tête-à-tête; when one number becomes unattainable or unavailable, one contact is not deleted, but placed into the memory card of the former friendships or the databank of the dropped acquaintances; and every contact must be so upgraded; society employs several models which assist the user in the jump towards acceptance and popularity…as well as marriage. Such a minuscule mandate for communal connection is compulsory. Some buttons and keys are activated, some by touch-screen, some by thumb-grease, some by voice-activation or wireless remotes; but the cell phone’s hand is in every camaraderie and relationship, and its hand shall bind up the outcasts of all our scattered megabytes of invitations and flirtations. As therefore the phone that rings to a gathering calls not upon the queen bee only, but upon the worker bees to come, so this ringtone calls to us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the dream wedding by this pixel.

There was a categorization as far as cliques (in which both hobbies and favorites, appearance and hygiene, were mingled), which of the invitations should ring to game nights or movie outings first thing on the weekend; and it was determined, that they should vibrate first that arose the latest. If we understand aright the rules of society and dating of this device that rings for our evening excursion, we would be glad to make singledom ours by staying out late, in that application, that it might be ours as well as hers (the ladies’ man or serial-dater) whose indeed it is.

That web-access doth bond her that thinks it doth to her destiny, the lonely with the social butterfly, the unnoticed with the bell of the ball; and though the lack of confidence intercept the signal again, yet from the moment the invitation is received this occasion wrought upon her brings, he is united to her soul mate. Who perks not her ear to the ding when it chimes? But who takes off her headphones for a glimmer of the desired caller? Who bends not her arm under the desk to conceal the twinkle from the screen in class when the professor ceases to observe? But who can remove the addiction from that party which is sounding the Siren call, as to the traveler Odysseus, from within the confines of the library stall?

No social rendezvous is private when one has roommates; every conversation, look, or encounter is not meaningless; it is all a part of the hoped-for fairy-tale ending. If a message be censored and contrived by the company, the lonely is the more obscure, as well as if she had never developed a personality on her own; any friend’s influence upon me reduces my true desire to achieve, because I am involved in the all-nighters and sleepovers, and therefore never cease to know for whom the phone rings; excuse me, for it rings for me now.

Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of wallow, as though we were not unaccepted enough of ourselves, but must retrieve more from the next dinner-group, in taking upon us the duty of the party planning. Truly, it were a forgivable desire if we did, for popularity is a ringtone, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No night-owl hath peace and quiet enough that is not matured and ripened by the sensation of the ring and made fit for dates and goings-on of the ward. If a girl carry an iPad in her purse, or a laptop in her backpack, and have not updated it into the most modern technology, her reception will not be enhanced as she journeys. Distraction is divine in the nature of it, but it is not score in the Sudoku, or the Album in the Facebook, that draws the attention, except we get nearer and nearer our goal, acceptance, by it. Her rival may be sick, and covered in zits, and this tribulation may lie in her eating habits or hygiene, as yellow teeth and sloppy eye-liner, and be of no use to her; but this phone, that tells me of my roommate’s popularity, propels and enhances the guy-girl-ratio: if by this consideration of another’s popularity I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my advertisement to my fellow singles, who are my only competition.