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By Emmanuel Williams

When one marries, they find themselves committed to a family, one they married into mostly. One they might create, and if they are successful, they have, congratulations, produced children less prone to poverty and crime.

When one is alone, one finds love where one can. In the bottom of the well, at the edge of consciousness, and what if there is no love after all?

There are plenty of whores for every John. Plenty of drugs for every ache…

I thought about whether or not I want to look for a wife for much longer, and I couldn’t help but think… What’s the ANGLE with Marriage?

It started as the American Dream. A white picket fence, a nuclear family: one wife, two kids, a boy and a girl. Even a dog, named Spot or Bullseye, whatever floats your boat. The point is, you’ve fucking made it.

Allow me to poke a few holes in your garden hose…

You may not end up with just a boy and a girl. You may end up like me with 2 boys by different mothers. They may disown you as a father so the boy can be raised by his lesbian grandparents. 

You may end up with the most beautiful second son you could dream of, only for his mother to remain in jail as a felon with no regard for the police so she ends up locked up more than available to be the child’s mother. At a point when you’re strung out on drugs in the loneliness she kept giving you because she was still hung up on her ex. And your boy is just a love child. Not an attempt at something long term.

Yeah. Nuclear’s the fucking word.

Why would I marry her? I almost did, actually. But she revealed her other lovers. She had love for me enough to finally tell me after she saw the ring.

It didn’t happen.

That ain’t the worst of my proposal disasters.

I almost proposed to my perfect lover. But her daughter from a previous relationship was so vengeful that I never got close enough to seal the deal.

It was a different ring.

You may need a break to digest this discussion so far.

One…

Two…

Three…

I want a wife. At least I used to…

I wanted an emotional companion. Its so fucking hard to come by.

They say that there is “someone for everyone”. My ex said she was a ‘chubby chaser’ but we were actually randos that found each other on the streets. She was always pretty slow. She might have her GED at 43 years old. I dated her while she was 42 for half a year. A former sex worker I was waiting for the magic to happen, but, I should have paid her and sent her on her way. 

She had no style. That’s huge to me. If not as a Vogue subscriber, but as a man who needs arm candy to upstage him. Like Seal and Heidi Klum. 

I digress, perhaps.

I am a man of honor. Or so I thought.

Then I enter a pool of… children!

I love college, don’t get me wrong.

But Millennials looking for love among Gen Z is a castration waiting to happen. 

All I see is grown ups behaving like spoiled brat children who get to socialize while you try and get the actual hard work done.

They may look pretty sitting in my office, but they have no brute strength.

They want love? I’ve had orgies.

They want a hookup? I hooked up with crystal meth. And I always got to come back for more.

“People in their 20s treat each other like ‘S’…,” Dr. Drew Pinsky.

Which means emotional maturity doesn’t kick in until people enter their 30s.

I’m 37.

At first, I thought there were options. It’s an equal playground to some extent.

But once Lady Luck starts blowin’ on some other guy’s dice right in front of Marlon Brando, the gal hasn’t learned life’s lessons yet.

So just because there’s no wife among the office bitches, doesn’t mean we need to chuck our Husband card, just TUCK IT.

We’re gonna need that later…

“Luck if you’ve ever been a lady to begin with…”

-Marlon Brando, Guys and Dolls (1955)