Randolph Street Market Festival
We feel like “I’m getting married” is the new, “I could never get married.” It’s like how the buttoned-down double windsor knotting and brill creamery of the Don Draper early 60s led to the dirt bag, bearded Cheech & Chong-dom of the 70s. All those people with their inability to foresee themselves locked into a life-long penitentiary of monogamy have gotten as played out as fedoras and food trucks.
Why’s everyone so afraid of getting married, anyways? Worse case scenario, you realize it was a colossal mistake and just get a divorce like everyone else. It’s really not that bad. Getting a divorce will add some character to your humdrum existence. You’ll no longer be the boring guy whose interests only extend to drinking, cooking and eating grilled cheese sandwiches and watching the Chicago Bears. With a divorce under your belt, you’ll be re-branded as the tortured, heartbroken and seasoned adult that we go to for dating advice. Furthermore, all the greats got divorced at some point in their lives. Often times chronically so. Just ask Ronald Reagan, Elizabeth Taylor, Mrs. Doubtfire, or Max Headroom.
Plus being married, will make you a more dynamic person. Just think of all the time you spend on seeking companionship and navigating the wrought path of romantic entanglement. No longer will you have to burn all that time and energy mulling over your online dating profile and coyly texting people, fishing for an encounter. Or grossly and desperately flirting with EVERYONE from the poor girl sprinkling lettuce on your Chipotle burrito bowl to the woman in the paisley nursing scrubs that works at your dentist’s office. They’re not interested, you creep! Once you have that wedding band on, people you don’t know’s concern with the aggressive zeal of your friendliness will be reassured to learn that: No, you’re not making a pass. You couldn’t. You’re married. See the ring?
And holy cow, will you put your parents at ease. You think they want you to stay a lonely, sad sack, drifting from one meaningless pseudo-romantic encounter to the next, for the rest of their lives. After all the guff you gave them when you were a bratty teenager, this is the least you can do, with grandkids being a looming second.
So quit being such a baby and marry someone. Anyone. Don’t have anyone? Here’s a tip for finding them. Go to the Randolph Street Market Festival which starts on the 28th and runs through the end of October, down at the the Randolph Street Market at 1340 W. Washington Blvd. It’s teaming with unhappy singles, that are just aching to tie the knot, even if its with a goofball like you.