Low Battery

‘Tis the season to be broken up. In the last two weeks, several of my girlfriends have found themselves suddenly single. Over lunch, one sista' wondered aloud about moving on. For her, it wasn’t anything like riding a bike. Being single had become like taking a standardized test; there wasn’t anything she could have done to prepare.

“With him gone,” she said mournfully, “I feel as though I’ve lost my cell phone.” Having once left my mobile that was held for a $45 ransom in a Queens-bound cab, I got a sense of the helplessness she was feeling. When we spend most of our lives single, how is that we so easily forget how to do it again? Have we really forgotten how, or is it that, once broken up, we refuse to live a lifestyle that we forever swore off as a paired person?

Do we secretly view the single life as a shameful status to which we will never return? We often say how envious we are of our single friends, with their surplus of free time and the exciting influx of new men. But, do we really find it so glamorous? Don’t we just dread the unexpected return to the literal “no man’s land?”

“It’s like I’m no longer connected,” she whispered. It seemed that more time to spend working out, reading, and bargain shopping would never make up for the singleness that she was experiencing. I suggested everything in an effort to illustrate the serendipitous silver lining of living without the ex. It didn’t help. Like lost cell phones, men are a bitch to replace.

Eventually, I had to get honest. I told homegirl that a year with the same man should entitle her to an upgrade. At the time, her last one seemed like the best model available. A year ago, she was so excited! A year later, he acted as if he were still state-of-the-art equipment. It got old. Now, with the right deal, the possibilities are endless. She could get one that flips, one with a better vibration, or one that wouldn’t do embarrassing things at dinner parties. Either way, I assured her that it was like that old saying: when one phone closes, another one opens.