Your cat is the reason why you’re single.
It may not be the only reason but it’s a reason.
So, you’re 30-something and lonely. You’re buried in your work and have convinced yourself that you don’t “need” a man. But you want one. You want one desperately.
It’s been too long, if ever. In fact, it’s now or never.
You signup to the online dating site that’s in your face 24/7 – the social media sites you spend hours on, on TV and the radio. You create a profile that’s nothing like the “real” you. Here’s your chance to reinvent yourself, and if you get a bite, you’re confident you can pull off this falacy.
As these sites are heavily geared in your favour (the onus and cost are usually on the man), you trawl through the profiles and respond to the guys who seem nice – maybe they describe themselves well or aren’t “too” good looking.
But you’re about to give away your desperation by seriously underestimating how your relationship with your cat has fucked up your ability to relate to real people.
So, a few guys send you some emails and you get chatting. You want to chat for a while before meeting. It’s not interesting talk either. It’s an interview-style series of questions. A dead giveaway that you’re an introvert.
You’ve made yourself your seventh cup of tea for the day, the shit you got from T2 that’s all herbal and enchanting, and sat down in front of the Mac with Mr Pussycat.
As you’re dunking a few bikkies and stroking your pussy, you get an interesting email from a hot guy. He wants to meet you.
You get butterflies. No more hiding.
You start talking to your feline companion about how you’re praying he’s “the one” to finally break your rut. The rut you put yourself in by staying in when the girls wanted to set you up with a friend or not going to drinks after work because… you had to go home and feed the cat.
But you see, you’re doomed before you start because you’re attached. You’re attached to your cat.
You might be used to the fur all over your t-shirt or the meowing by the door, perhaps the smell is by now, unnoticeable. Your screensaver is a collage of cat photos, and you’re guilty of bookmarking your favourite “Lolcat” YouTube videos. You have trinkets and plush toys just to add to your “cat lady” attractiveness.
Your cat is no longer your pet, it’s your best friend.
Men don’t like cats. The less tactile and intellectual may do. But generally, men like animals that respond with energy. Men like dogs.
Cats don’t like dogs. You love your cat. He loves dogs. He has to choose.
The latest stat on singles in Australia’s major cites is four women to every one man in your age group.
Get rid of the cat if you want a man.