Yesterday after a 12 hour day I needed to stop in at the Salt Lake campus to deliver an envelope to a teacher. I reach the front doors to find them locked, because I was too lazy at the moment to walk the short distance back to my car, drive around the back and find my campus keys, I knock on the glass doors in hopes of someone still inside, and someone to hear my knuckles making contact with the glass. A few seconds pass and then up walks the janitor James. James likes all things in order, my knocking on the door after he has locked them was not in order. Yet begrudging he opened them for me. He even opened the teachers classroom for me so I could place the envelope on her desk, again, not in order.
"Oh Angela, I want to show you pictures from my daughters wedding." His daughter married a couple weeks ago, very proud papa. I knew this would be longer than a two minute look at pictures and say goodbye because James can become quite involved in conversation when given any opportunity. We walk down the long hallway toward his office, enter his office and he pulls a folder from a shelve. Excited he opens the folder and produces a few pictures along with the very detailed ceremony, seriously, this explained who was to do what and when. For instance, it described upon arrival at the alter, named sister will adjust wedding gown. Said name brides maid will take flowers from bride after said message then return the flowers to bride after the kiss. Yes, very detailed.
I comment on the beauty of his daughter and his wife. Make the necessary comments for any wedding you know nothing of the bride and groom. Then his opinions rise, they fly out from thoughts into words, daggers out of his mouth. "Angela, she is 35 years old! Finally at 35 years old she marries. 35. She is 35 Angela." My response is to start walking slowly backwards toward the door as I smile and say, "35 is a great age to marry, she is confident in who she is and what she wants." Oh boy, those were fighting words to him. "Angela, she is 35." "And very beautiful James, congratulations." "Angela, when are you going to get married?" Here we go...again.
"Time isn't right now James", trying to keep my smile big and not show my vampire teeth. "Angela, she is 35, you need to find a man to marry." "James, I am older than she is (almost laughing now)" "Angela, why are you not married? You are beautiful and smart." "Thank you James, maybe that is why I am not married, I am smart and this scares guys." This finally brought a smile to his face. I bid my farewell and quickly walk out of his office, down the long hallway to the doors. Happy to hear them latch behind me.
This morning I am riding the train with my friend and tell him this story. He too is shocked that it is of anyone else's concern whether someone is or is not married. As we are discussing the issue, it was welcoming to express my desires of being single longer and he too. He is continually harassed by his parents for not being married, I am harassed by others.
Why does it matter to anyone else the status of my life, or your life? Some act as if they are losing sleep at night because I have decided to not settle down and marry yet. Do people expect for all to be married, whether they are happy or not? Why is it, in our society, and many others, that marriage is the perfect Hollywood ending?
