Jared Freid: 37 and Single

I'm 37 and single.

It's a bad combination.

I've gotten pickier.

I don't know how that happened. I've gotten pickier.

I was on a dating app, said no to someone's name the other day.

A name. I saw a name. I was like, "Fuck that name."

It was Darlene.

I'm not dating a Darlene. I'm not dating a Darlene.

I'm not a husband from the 1950s.

I'm not...

dating the Werther's Originals of names.

I'm not dating a Sophia, a Blanche, a Rose, a Dorothy.

If your name was on Nick at Nite, I'm not dating you.

I just don't see a fun future with a Darlene. I can't envision it.

Like, I don't see, "Darlene brings tequila into the movies."

Like, I see, "Take off your shoes. Darlene doesn't like them in the house."

I've said no to a woman's dog's name.

I saw profile. "My dog Cameron." I was like, "No."

I'm not dating someone with a dog that's also a financial planner.

Look, are we gonna be at the park? "Cameron, Cameron?"

Some guy in a suit's like, "Are you talking to me?"

Anytime someone's profile says "spiritual," I'm fucking out.

I don't know what it means. I don't think she knows what it means.

Every time I see "spiritual," I assume she hand dances at a CVS. Just...

There's no music playing. She's like, "I caught a vibe."

She's ribbon dancing with the big receipt.

And I'm making assumptions.

But I don't wanna rub crystals on my cock. I don't.

It's me. I'm the issue in all of this. I'm making the judgments.

These are nice people.

I get irrationally mad at people's profiles.

One woman, her profile said,

"I like to wake up and read and go for a walk with my morning coffee."

My guttural, 37-year-old reaction to that

was, "Fuck off."

I knew everything about her from that sentence. I knew the book.

I knew the coffee. I knew the walk.

Fuck that book about a missing woman. Fuck that book.

Fuck that coffee with a touch of oat milk. Fuck that coffee.

Fuck your walk that ended with an Instagram post

of a leaf in black and white with "autumn" in cursive.

Fuck... that post.

It's like, what am I mad at?

What am I saying "fuck off" to a healthy, functional human being,

like a Jewish woman who found a good dairy alternative? What?

It's just not real. It's not real, right?

Thirty-seven and single means I've done level one of dating.

I want to be at level three.

Right? I want a real profile.

I would much rather the profile be like, "I like to wake up and scroll..."

"...and sip a water that's been next to my bed for a month."

That's a real person. Like, I would love that pro...

"I like to wake up and fart, lift up the sheets...

...see if it smells like dinner."

We want real on a dating app, but I don't think I could be that real.

This person wrote what they like to do. I can't write what I like to do.

You ever thought of what you like to do? I like to sit on the couch and stare.

You know what I love to do?

I like to look at the phone, look at the TV...

Go in my room, masturbate, fall asleep like a Jesus painting.

Wake up, have a snack, do the whole thing over again.

Just phone, TV, masturbate, snack. Phone, TV, masturbate, snack.

Phone, TV, call my mom, masturbate, snack.

- -

I can't write that on a dating app.

What woman is like, "Finally!"?

"A multitasker."

"I hope he takes a shit till his leg falls asleep."

Thirty-seven and single means you have married friends,

and they try to help, and they cannot help.

And I know some of you are here with married friends that try to help.

Let me give a message to you from them,

"Shut the fuck up."

You're not helping.

It doesn't matter how extreme a married person's story is,

they tell it as if you should do it too.

They'll look you dead in the eye. "I met Robert in seventh grade."

"Have you tried seventh grade?"

You're not allowed to disagree with them. It's too exhausting.

So you're like, "I gotta start trying seventh grade."

"I gotta enroll in the middle school."

"I gotta go to one of those Kumon and do after school activities."

Married men don't try to help you at all. They don't care.

The only thing married men talk about is how they would've crushed it on Tinder.

That's the only thing they say.

"Oh man, if I was single..."

It's like, I knew you then.

Married women are weird. They're condescending.

Women seem to be in this competition that... that I don't even believe in.

Like, "Married, winning. Single, losing." That seems to be the case.

So, when all of my friends who are my age get married,

they act like they have no memory of being single whatsoever.

Like, they're not allowed to admit they remember it, because it was fun.

They'll be like, "I don't even remember."

"Oh, what was it, 2012?"

"Was the internet around back then?"

"I think I just played Snake on my phone all day."

"Where am I? I'm so old."

"I think my father got a cow in the transaction."

They're so bizarre. I was at Fourth of July.

I pulled out Bumble, the dating app, in front of my married friend.

Her body jutted away.

Legitimate.

It was like I pulled out my pet cock and balls, and I was like, "Here."

I pull out Bumble. She goes, "I wouldn't even know how to use that."

I was like, "Are you stupid?"

"Brief tutorial. Left, no."

"Right, fuck."

"You're caught up. Easier than Seamless. You're good."

Then she looked me in the eye. She had this weird speech.

She goes, "Thank God I am not single today. Thank God!"

- -

"Thank God!" She kept going. "Thank God! Thank Jesus Christ!"

I thought she was gonna start preaching. "Let me get an 'amen' for being married!"

"I said, 'Thank you, Jesus!'"

"No more first dates. Thank you, Jesus!"

"No more random cock on my phone!"

She was thanking a higher power that she didn't have my life.

You don't think that's condescending at all?

Now I do that to her baby.

"Timmy's up from his nap." I'm like, "I wouldn't even know how to use that."

And then I march around, "Can I get an 'amen' for having no kids?"

"Can I get a 'thank you, Jesus' for masturbating with the door open?"

"Thank you!"

"I said, 'Thank you, Jesus!'"

"I said, 'Thank you, Jesus, '

for not sharing a mortgage with someone I used to love."

That last one sounds bitter.

I agree. That's something I've had to deal with.

You sound bad, as a single person. I sound bad.

We have to admit we sound bad to our married friends.

They're right a little bit.

They try to help, and we're not really good to help.

'Cause we're aspirational. We're not easy to deal with.

My dad tried to set me up. My dad lives in Florida. I live here.

He called me. He goes, "You know, a woman in Miami

would like to meet you."

I was like, "Do you have any more information?"

He goes, "You're so picky."

What is weirder in that scenario?

Me asking for a picture or what she does for a living,

or me booking a ticket?

Flying to Miami, going to a busy street corner.

"I'm here!"

"I hear there's someone looking for a chubby Jew."

But that's the thing.

Your... your married friends hear something different than what we're saying.

You are hungry.

They have brought you food.

And you're like, "Is it organic?"

I see it from my single friends too.

I see it. I... I understand it. I was out for lunch with my friend.

I was scrolling on Instagram, she was swiping on Bumble.

You know, how friends have lunch.

Just hanging out to the sound of each other's breath.

She gets a match, a match.

She holds up the phone. She goes, "Look at this fucking loser."

That was a match.

And I understand that.

When you're on a dating app, you get good-looking all of a sudden.

I'm okay looking,

but when I'm on there, I'm like a judge on America's Next Top Model .

I'm on there, "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew."

"Maybe."

You ever do the maybe swipe, like you'respecial?

"They should have the pleasure."

"Trash."

I love watching The Bachelor .

If you are single and you love watching The Bachelor,