Have you noticed how in the middle of every speech made at a graduation party, marriage is mentioned? It’s the scariest thing. Just as you’re starting to get drunk off all the fabulous stuff being said about you, the speaker throws you into shock by hinting that you’re expected to quickly knot yourself with some boy or girl in order to be considered a social success.
This is all very well, because marriage has its perks, but I want to ask, where do these aunts, uncles, brothers, and friends expect us to find decent looking, reliable, smart creatures of marriageable age? Everybody has been ruined by MTV and intoxicants. It’s not like there were course units at university dedicated to equipping us with the skills necessary for hooking tiptop specimens for companionship and baby making.
Because Plan B cares, here’s a guide to catching a spouse from somebody who has no idea what she’s talking about.
First things first, wailing, gnashing teeth and putting up incendiary posts on facebook about your nasty exes isn’t going to help you, friend. All you’ll get is wrinkles on your soul from all the bitterness. Making eyes at your friends’ mates isn’t an option either, because anybody who willfully overturns or wujjas another person’s sepiki of happiness makes a date with disaster in the future. Your step-grandchild will steal your spouse. Your hair will get roasted under the dryer at the saloon. Everything you touch will turn into maggots. Point is, don’t violate other people’s relationships in order to diminish your throbbing need for a mate.
Read and react violently to online articles like that one about intellectual African scum that went viral. Make sure your dramatic reaction is posted on every social network that exists. This will impress somebody and as a reward for all your exclamation marks, you’ll receive a friend/follow request. I know this the only real advice in this article because I’ve heard of twomances and fbromances and googleplusmances.
Look gorgeous and if you’re already doing that and it’s not working, look horrible. You know, reverse psychology. Shock all the people who count by starting to look so bad that they’ll get concerned and begin texting you to find out if you’re OK. After this stage, it’s up to you to reply with messages that make you seem like the best thing since beans and tomato sauce. Before you know it, you shall be a happily married and pregnant girl/ scared shitless young man accompanying your new wife to antenatal class.
Take your pretty dresses and smart jeans to church, mosques and other such places. Apparently, this kind of place is both the best and worst place to network with intent to marry as the people there are all so damaged from the horrible lives they led before falling at the feet of God that you can’t be sure about their sanity. Plan B has no idea how true this is, but be as careful with them as you are with the heathens.
Or, instead of going to all this trouble, we could just ask our older relatives to arrange the marriages that they’re so enthusiastic about. In fact, all invitation cards to grad parties should have this printed on the envelope: For admission, come with an attractive and responsible person in the age group of the graduand.