Bus Sermons

I sat on the bus and the woman beside me - who had a chunky mullet and neon green string looping behind her neck attached to her glasses - turned to me. She asked what I was studying at school. I told her English. She asked me where I grew up. She asked me what church I attended from my hometown.
When I told her I didn't go to church she got frazzled and gave me detailed directions (street names, Rightturns vs. Leftturns, a tree on a corner to make sure to drive past) for a large church downtown. It was recently "re-innovated" and was worth looking at. I told her maybe next time I went home I would.

The bus turned a corner and we fell into silence, I wasn't sure whether or not the conversation would/should continue.
Then she whips out this question for me:
"So, are you married yet?"
Yet.
Yet?
As the film High Fidelity taught us, Yet implies some kind of intent or desire for it to occur soon in the future. Horseshit.
I couldn't stop from snorting and then laughing out loud. I said no, I was most definitely not married. Looking down at my left hand she said that was a shame. I just shrugged.

She then says, "Well, when you do, make sure you get married in that beautiful re-innovated church. When you do, make sure you go look at it before your wedding day because your wedding day is the only one you get and it's all yours."
When you get married. When? When.

She meant well. That's why I didn't look at her and tell her I'd recently been doing a lot of thinking and accepting that life's end goal shouldn't be marriage and that I'll be just fine if I never get married. I didn't tell her that recently I've been digging for happiness in myself and being content in solitude. I didn't tell her that statistically woman become lonelier after marriage. I didn't tell her I don't know if I believe in God or not.

She had a chunky mullet, spoke with a stutter, and didn't blink while talking. So I didn't go into it. I wasn't in the mood for that conversation, yet.