"Here's to the bachelors
and the bowery bums
and those who feel that they're the ones
who are better off without a wife"
-Tom Waits


I was late to the union meeting by five minutes.

Ok, I was late by at least an hour, but if I'd had been five minutes earlier pulling into the union hall, I would have at least have caught the tail end of the union meeting.

And the "motion to adjourn." (duly seconded)

And the "moment of silence for departed 'brothers and sisters of the sea.'"

And the final praises to the goat, who embodies our dark, cloven-hooved Lord and Master.



Truth be told, I'd forgotten that we were having a meeting. I just made the drive down to LA because I had to pay this quarter's union dues.

Regardless, since it was union meeting day, just about all the greater Los Angeles sailors currently ashore showed up, which meant I got to say hello to several past shipmates. I've been sailing long enough now that I actually run into people I know at the hall. And this is not necessarily a good thing.

First came the Filipino from a tub I rode last year, who wasted no time in telling me "Oh! You have gained weight!"

I'm pretty sure that sort of comment is considered a compliment in third world countries, but as I'm a born-and-bred American, I immediately took offense. Sure, I could have replied with something like "Really? You think so? I've been working out - thanks for noticing."

Instead, I gained about a hundred thousand Surls, and blurted "What, are you trying to tell me I'm fucking fat?"



He back-peddled, telling me "No! No! It is just that you used to be so skinny!"

Ok. I can accept that.

He was totally calling me fat.

Nice save, Filipino.

"You look very healthy now. It is probably because you got married."

Oh. Good. "Healthy" is a better word for it.

Waitaminute-

I got married?

I don't recall getting married. But then again, I've been on a bender lately. Suppose it could have happened and then slipped my mind, but I'm fairly certain that most pastors won't pronounce you man and wife if it's obvious that one or both parties are in the midst of a whiskey-induced blackout.



Unless you're in Vegas.

And I don't remember being in Vegas recently.

Five minutes later, I ran into another former shipmate. One from the tub I just got off of two weeks ago. He nonchalantly asked me how the wedding went.

"Oh, it was great. You shoulda been there. The goat gave us its blessing. Sorry I didn't shoot you an invite."



Did I get married?

I mean, I'll be the first to admit that I tend to act impulsively sometimes...and I'll be the first to admit that I haven't got the greatest memory in the world...but still. Jesus.

I sat and thought about it for a while, and came to the conclusion that I was probably still a happily eligible bachelor. Which meant that someone was spreading rumors.

This is not the first time it's happened to me.

Back in my college days, I left town for a week with my family to visit Victoria, stay at a bed and breakfast, and suffer Canadian fools. When I got back to Bakersfield, someone had circulated the story that Ex-Ms. Right (#1) and I had run off and eloped.

Which caused half of the single women in Bakersfield to mournfully commit suicide. I felt kind of bad about that.

But seriously, why the fuck is my marital status such a big deal to everyone?

It's not that important. It really isn't.

I mean - at this point in my life - the only reason I could possibly have to get married is because I want a kid.

And the only reason I want a kid is because I want to tool around in a...



Yeah. A papoose. Next year's essential fashion accessory. Expect Andre 3000 to sport one. And expect Coachhref> to make one that pushes the $500 price tag, but I'm sure you'll be able to find a cheaper, knock-off model.

Mine'll be black leather, with lots of zippers and buckles and stuff.

-Jb
CEO FTW, Inc.
02.21.06