Yesterday, while recounting the absurd, insulting, and downright disgusting interactions I have had on dating apps, a married friend said to me “I just LOVE living vicariously through my single friends’ stories!”

Here’s the thing, married people. We know you don’t actually mean any harm by this. But when you say such things, this is what we single people hear:

“Your life, much like a horror movie, is entertainment for me.

Seriously, I wish I had a tub of popcorn and some snowcaps. Maybe a coke. 

Also, much like a horror movie, I am grateful it is not MY life. (For real. Thank. GOD.)

In fact, MOST like a horror movie, afterwards it makes me appreciate the safe, comfortable life I do have.

What I’m saying, in case I wasn’t clear, is that your life is essentially a gory, terrifying Stephen King film.

I’m sorry you’re the aging star of it.

It’s fun for ME, though.”

Then you laugh maniacally, hop in your diamond car, and drive home to your house made of Godiva, where your white-tux-clad husband is waiting for you with champagne and a foot rub.