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The Tyranny of the Couple
Sometimes it happens by accident. You arrange a relaxed evening at the movies with two couples and your gay friend, Charlie, who often serves as your plus one. At the last minute, Charlie comes down with the stomach flu. You’ve already purchased the tickets, and don’t want to seem like a bad sport. Yet is there anything worse than a Saturday night out, as the fifth wheel?
Or this scenario, told to me by a single acquaintance, who had planned a dinner party of four. She’d invited some married friends and a colleague (strictly platonic), whose boyfriend was away on business. The host’s nightmare call came when the boyfriend returned from his trip early, and asked if he could come along. How could she say no? Even though it meant being the odd woman out (in her own home).
I have been a 3rd, 5th and 7th wheel, with varying degrees of pain. How about you?
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Here’s one for you. At my birthday dinner last weekend my engaged friend, whose fiance wasn’t there, started planning a couples weekend with my married friends right in front of me. And I was the only other person there– it wasn’t like I could go sit at someone else’s table. Charming. What could be better than feeling left out at your own birthday dinner? Ah, well. I truly believe they know not what they do.
Sarah’s story is terrible! I never really understood couples-only gatherings.
What used to happen to me was I would invite my girlfriends somewhere and they would automatically assume their boyfriends were invited. That’s *not* a huge deal generally, because I usually liked the boyfriends. But supposing I didn’t? Or supposing I wanted to talk about stuff that I wasn’t comfortable discussing with the entire couple unit?
Christina
I remember not too long ago when a dear friend of mine wanted to take me out on a Saturday night to take my mind off the fact that things had suddenly cooled with a guy I’d been seeing regularly for a few weeks. Unfortunately, as we made our plans the question I’d most been dreading came up via text: “Do you mind if James [her boyfriend] joins us?” In her defense, her car had been in the shop a few days and she had to rely on his. I could understand that it’d be awkward to ask him to borrow his car and then not invite him out, but that didn’t make me feel any better as I agonized over not getting a response from the guy while out on a “date” with another couple.
I’m the 3rd/5th/7th/Nth wheel all the time, and I don’t even think twice about it. I’m lucky, though, that my coupled-up friends aren’t like Bridget’s Smug Marrieds and the pervasive atmosphere is that of 3/5/7/N friends, not 2/4/6/N couples + 1.
I’ve been a wheel of one sort of another many times, although my coupled friends are usually sensitive enough to make sure there are other single people there so I don’t feel weird. As we get older, though, I know the singles among us will become fewer and fewer, and that’s not anyone’s fault, but I’m dreading it.
Sometimes I feel a little bad for the couples, though. They’re damned if they do, damned if they don’t. If they invite us alone, we feel like third wheels. If they invite us with another single, we feel set up. If they don’t invite us, we feel excluded. I’m not sure what I’d do in their position. I guess as long as my own friends make some time for us to hang out just the two of us, I’m okay with visiting the land of coupledom sometimes, too.
I’m the 3rd, 5th, or 7th wheel all the time and for the most part it doesn’t bother me. Except for the few times I’ve been viewed suspiciously by someone’s wife, like maybe I’m going to try and move in or her territory. (as if). This generally happens when someone new is included in the comfortable old group, and the new “wife” doesn’t know my views on marriage and relationships. So, it’s often me that makes them uncomfortable. Go figure. Sometime, if conversation flows that way, I’ll make sure the newby understands my position: if I don’t want a man of my own, why would I want yours? One of the good things about being single is – as Wendy pointed out – not having to compromised on movie choices/seats or whether someone wants to eat Italian or go for the greasy burger and fries. I never have to pretend to be fascinated by someone’s clever observations, never have to wear heels, and I only wear makeup when I want to. Do I ever get lonely? Occasionally, but for the most part, I’m comfortable enough in my own skin that lonely isn’t an issue. When it is, I call one of my married girlfriends and listen to her tales of how her husband never does anything around the house, leave his clothes whereever he drops them and will never put a new roll of toilet paper on the holder. My lonely usually disappear quickly after that and I fell a little – dare I say it? – smug, that I don’t have to deal with those little annoyances, and I still get invited for Thanksviving dinner.