On Bachelorhood -- Part III

(This is the third and final installment of a three-part series. For parts 1 & 2, please click this link and this link, respectively)

For work the other day, I had to go down to The Museum of Science & Industry. CTA-man that I am, I took the Blue Line in to the Loop and then moseyed over to pick up the #6 Jackson Park Express bus for a convenient and scenic lakefront ride down to Hyde Park.

When I stepped on the bus, i was none too crowded. I took a seat near the rear of the bus, on one of the side rows facing the cabin interior. Nearby, on the row of seats perched along the vehicle's back wall sat a girl. She was quite pretty, perhaps 21 or 22 years of age and with a friendly air about her.

Also coming aboard the bus at my stop was what seemed to be a fellow bachelor. Young, unassuming and of average attractiveness he made for a seat on that same back row as the aforementioned pretty girl, leaving one seat between them as a buffer. As he sat down, I noticed him taking notice of our fair friend.

"Don't do it, man." I thought silently towards the would-be pick-up artist. "This bus is getting onto Lake Shore Drive and it isn't stopping for 25 minutes. Unless you rolled out of bed possessed by the Holy Spirit, I'll guarantee you have enough good 'bus conversation' to last about 3 minutes. Then, the channels of conversation are going to dry up and what the hell are you going to do for half an hour?"

Of course, Knucklehead ignored my extra-sensory urgings and the scene that unfolded looked something like this:

KNUCKLEHEAD
"Hey, how's it going today? ......Riding the bus?"

PRETTY GIRL (let's call her 'Kelly' Why? Why not?)
(caught slightly off-guard) "What? Oh, yeah." She offers a polite smile

KNUCKLEHEAD
"So, uh, are you a student?"

KELLY
"Yeah, I've still got one more year left."

Alright, shit, this is getting boring. He went on to ask her about her major (Anthro? I don't know. Who cares?) and then had a misfired joke. After another 40 seconds or so, there was nowhere for the conversation to go. He, to his credit, didn't want to ask another unsolicited question for fear of coming on too strong. She, I think, just wished the barrier of silence had never been punctured in the first place.

At that point, Knucklehead studied his fingernails with feigned interest and Kelly stared up and out the window rigid-necked and with determination that there would be no inadvertent eye contact betwixt the two, lest the feel compelled to begin the clumsy dance anew.

This went on for more than 20 minutes. It was excruciating. I'm even beginning to feel awkward writing about it. Forget waterboarding, this is what we should do to the Al-Qaeda people in Guantanamo. Don't want to talk? Fine. Guess what? you're taking an elevator ride with that person from work who you always say hi to but don't know their name, America has some pretty tall buildings, pal, we can keep this up forever.

I don't make mention of this incident with the intent to pillory or ridicule Knucklehead (hilarious nicknames notwithstanding). Every guy has the battle scars from falling on his face a few times (some of us even more than that). I do, however, think this cautionary tale serves as a nice little allegory for why the vast majority of men in our society eventually get off the titanium-reinforced, high-tensile roller coaster ride that is Bachelorhood.

As discussed in parts I and II , when viewed through the prism of self-gratification (take that to mean whatever you want), Bachelorhood is a much more fun and enjoyable way of life. Sometimes, it's a wiser one as well. Relationships are inherently stabilizing things, but an anchor (or rock or whatever politicians call their wives) is not always the best thing to have in life.

For most people, the lifeblood of their personality is dynamism. You show me a person who's stopped growing, learning and doing new things and I'll show you a person who is just going through the motions; killing time until they die. Or, as the incomparable Benjamin Franklin said "Many people die at 25 but are not buried until 75."

At certain junctures in life, the dynamism game jumps between Singles-town and Relationship-ville and vice versa. A big part of life is learning how to be with somebody even when you want to strangle them. A bigger part is learning how to recognize that it's time to stop being with somebody even though you don't want to strangle them.

Eventually, the wanderlust of the Bachelor leads to repetiveness. Even the most swingin' single's lifestyle eventually runs to be nothing more than (at best) an unrelated series of meaningless tactical conquests. If one is, in the long term, committed to Bachelorhood, then that means that they seek women out so that they might have a bit of fun with them and then by necessity make a pre-determined exit that will certainly hold ignominy and embarrassment for at least one(and more likely both) of the affected parties. It is the bus conversation, writ large and in perpetuity, entered into as a willful choice.

At a fundamental level, a concerted effort towards a successful relationship is a strategically challenging (and thus fulfilling) endeavor. It is much more stimulating to really hit a hot streak with one particular person than it is to have the same bang session with legions of different actors playing the same part.

OK, whew, that got pretty serious there at the end. Well, there you have it: everything you've ever wanted to know about Bachelorhood and then some. I feel good about the way this turned out, so remember, ladies, if you see me out at a bar I've already shown that I understand the importance of commitment and all that crap, so it's probably a safe bet to go home with me.