Being single definitely has its perks. Since married people often feel sorry for single people, singles can use that pity to their advantage. Below are some ways how I leverage my singledom.

• I tell my (married) manager I have to leave work early to get ready for a date, reminding him that “I’m single,” and he feels sorry for me and lets me go.
• When I’m shopping and I try on a pair of expensive jeans that look really good, I tell myself, “I’m single” which justifies my purchase. Or if I happen to be hanging out with my parents, and we go shopping, I can guilt trip them into buying <insert makeup or item of clothing> by telling them “I’m still single; I obviously need help getting married,” to which they feel bad for me and buy the <insert makeup or item of clothing>.
• Whenever my parents come across free tickets to a concert of Jazz game and they can’t go, I always get first dibs because, “I’m still single.” (Jazz tickets are good bait for a cute guy.)
• (This is not about me, but another example.) When my brother Troy was single, he justified a $20,000 loan to buy an Audi. Now that he’s married, he drives a beat-up old station wagon.
• I currently pay for a personal trainer. It’s pricey, I know, but hey, “I’m still single!”

But people can reverse the tactic and use your singledom against you.

• When my boss tells me that I can work 60 hours a week because “I’m single.”
• When someone asks if I could housesit for him next week because “I’m single.”
• When I tell my co-workers I don’t want to go out to lunch (because I just bought some jeans) and they say, “Oh c’mon. You’ve got money. You’re single.”
• When my mom tries to comb my hair for me in public, “Jenny, let me help you. You’re still single.”
• When I’m about to help myself to a second serving of chocolate cake, and someone whispers to me, “you really shouldn’t eat that. You’re single.”
• When someone wants to set you up on a date and you say, “I’m don’t do blind dates” and she comes back with, “You really should not be so judgmental. You’re still single.”

If anyone knows other ways I can use my singledom to get ahead of married people, please share them. Equally as important, please share any ways married people might use my singledom against me.

**And if you date Jenny, don’t take it personal if she tries to use the “I’m single” trick in front of you. She’s been using it for so long, it’s practically a reflex.

People love to set older singles up like they love to help an elderly person reach the bag of hard candy on the top shelf at the grocery store. They think, “here’s a poor, helpless individual who can’t really seem to make it on their own. How ’bout I lend a hand…” But whenever I’ve been set up, it seems like they don’t put much thought into it other than “he’s single and Mormon, and she’s single and Mormon, so they must obviously be a perfect match!” (Sorry, but it’s a little more complicated than that.)

 Below is a common set-up cycle many long-time singles experience.

1) You politely agree to be set-up. You think, “Sure, why not. What do I have to lose?”
2) You go. The guy is totally wrong. You ask yourself what the hell was your friend thinking.
3) You are annoyed you just lost 4 hours of your life. You swear off blind dates.
4) Time wears on. You get lonely. Memories of bad dates begin to fade.
5) Another offer. You tell yourself, “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give it another shot.”
6) Cycle repeats.

Set-ups are difficult to avoid because if you show any sign of hesitation, matchmakers either say, “it’s not like you have anything better to do,” or they try to reassure you with their Matchmaking Record, “Trust me. I’ve set-up one marriage and two other couples who are still seriously dating.”

I recently learned about a Matchmaking Record while watching a ball game with my friends DB and T-Rav. They started talking about setting me up with their roommate, who DB and T-Rav had previously suggested I meet but in separate conversations. I hesitated at the idea of another blind date, so DB and T-Rav started listing names of other couples they’ve successfully matched up. Then they started fighting over who would get official credit for matching me with their roommate! (I still haven’t met the guy.)

I didn’t really understand this matchmaking pride until I brought my friend and her little sis to a BBQ. Both girls ended up flirting with a couple of my guy friends (one who was infamously known for never dating). As I sat and watched the seeds of potential love plant themselves before me, I had an over-whelming “do-gooder” feeling. If either couple gets together, I thought, I’ll be the reason. And maybe, oh maybe, I had just made the world a better place.

(Neither couple made it past the first date. My current Matchingmaking Record: 0)

**So if you want to date Jenny, you’ll have to asked her out directly . She’s currently in the I’m-not-doing-blind-dates phase of the cycle.

They say you should date a lot of different people. Choosing a life partner is like choosing a pair of shoes. To find the perfect pair, you have to try on a lot of shoes, walk around in them, try them with and without socks, try them with different outfits. (I could keep running with this analogy, but you get the point.) So, my friends and I are trying on a lot of pairs of shoes right now.

I’ve taken a good friend’s lead on nicknaming guys with whom you are…let’s say…socializing. (I don’t want to use the word “dating” because it carries too much subjective connotation.) But when we’re talking about guys, and believe me, girls talk A LOT about guys—whether they’re friends, love interests, has-beens, a never-was, whatever— we often have to use pneumonic devices to remember which guy we’re actually talking about. With so many common names like Jon, Jeff, Dave, and Steve, we often forget who we’re dealing with in our conversations (especially among a group of 2 or more girls).

We don’t necessarily replace guys’ real names with the fake ones. We may just say…

“So I bumped into Dave the other day at the store…”
“Wait. Dave….Who is Dave again?”
“Dave? You remember. He’s the one with The Lips.”
“Ah, yes. Daaaave. Please go on…”

…and we’re all right back on the same page again and the story continues.

Below are some actual nicknames we’ve used in the past year.

Mr. Symphony
The Italian
The Beard
Max on Main
Lips
Hot One
The Golfer
Mistletoe Matt
Carson the Crush
Sweater Party Scott

Anyway, you get the point. It’s just an easy way to keep stories (both past and present) straight among girlfriends. (And if we get our heart broken over the guy, we can seperate ourselves from the emotional pain of a personal name and remember him only by an impersonal nickname.)

**So if you date Jenny or one of her friends and merit a nickname, you probably won’t ever know you had one.