“Reto-ing” a.k.a Setting Me Up With a Stranger


People are programmed from the beginning to find a mate/partner/husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend or whatever you may call it to procreate and pass on their gene pool once, twice or even multiple times in their lifetime. This is probably one of the reasons why people tend to be intrusive to other people who desire to be single by choice. Let me enlighten you fellow readers out there about one of my most awkward moments I experience in my everyday life which often times makes me want to bolt out the door as soon as I hear people make a dialogue about it. This I mean, the people around me with a humanitarian attempt of “reto-ing” (setting-up) my poor self with a guy whom they are acquainted or related with.

While we were on break today at work, one of my co-workers started talking about how desperate she was looking for a potential girlfriend for her son. Being nonchalant about the whole tirade as I have deemed dating taboo not to mention I was in the middle of savoring my rice, I shrugged my shoulders, continued shoving food in my mouth with gusto and let her freely expressed her sentiments. I was doing an excellent job with my pseudo listening skills when she suddenly paused and gave me that fervent look. The moment I recognized that evil glint she was shooting at me like a dagger, I felt the burning urge to gather my leftovers and escaped as far as my feet would carry me before it was too late. Regrettably, I was doomed either way, for she started barraging me with personal questions about my non-existent love life.

The cycle of pestering the heck out of me to meet her son kicked off that no matter how I tried to dodge her insinuations, she cunningly kept chasing me with her purposeful quest of finding a possible girlfriend for her son. Mind you, it didn’t end with her mission of finding a girlfriend; it became a crusade for a possible daughter-in-law and then believe it or not, her fervor of wanting grandchildren right away for heaven’s sake! I was flabbergasted and speechless at the same time. I couldn’t say “no” coz that would mean insulting her entirely, and I couldn’t say “yes” either as it would mean digging my own grave the minute I decided to meet her son.

Although it was flattering that she would root for a complete stranger like me, it didn’t deter my mind from pleading for someone to rescue me from the madness before it got out of hand. This I mean, before I uttered something I might regret later on like “You’re nice and all, but I don’t want to meet your son period.” The whole dodging went on for half an hour before another co-worker (bless her heart) decided to save my poor soul from the ridiculous situation. I was finally able to escape my co-worker’s clutches right away.

You also come across with a cumbersome moment of being at a party having a blast, but your friends decide to gang up on you and ruin your night with their endless teasing of pairing you up with another co-single you just met once or twice. I tell you now; the feeling is a ruthless killer when you’re having fun. Running out the door the moment you get the chance is all you desire to avoid the awkwardness lingering between you and the other person. You see this stranger again the next party, and there’s nothing much you can do to avoid him because you don’t want to be labelled as the “killjoy” among your group. You give the fakest smile to everybody, you joke about the whole thing, you nod like you’re relishing the attention, you shrug and impassively look at the other person, you pretend like you’re having fun but deep inside, you’re literally burning with fury and annoyance. There is nothing you crave to do more than to release your inner bitchiness and scream at these people to shut up and mind their own business. Unfortunately, the best you can do is to act like a mature adult that you are and be Miss Congeniality as long as you can hold it.


I get a lot of encounters like this every now and then which makes me wonder if the word “spouse-less” is plastered on my forehead that I’m not aware of. Being in your mid twenties with no partner to show off makes you look like you’re the most lonesome person in the planet to the people around you. And because people are innately good-natured, they meddle with your life through their grandeur act of trying to help you search for “the one” like you’re incapable of doing the task yourself. I’ve met countless strangers, acquaintances, classmates, friends of friends, co-workers, parents of friends who have this bizarre, strong urge to help me find a partner the moment they learn I’m not dating anybody. Albeit they always fail to ask the reason why I choose not to date at my age, instead, they have this wrong assumption of myself being the most pitiful gal who badly needs help finding a man pronto. It might be hard to believe, but this puts my wits on the spot most of the time because I don’t have a single clue how to politely decline their intention without sounding like a selfish, ungrateful, despicable person.

As much as I appreciate their good intention, I’d like to think I have avoided the “reto” aka set-up like a plague as far as I can remember. I’m more than skeptic about the idea of meeting a complete stranger while trying my best not to fidget on my chair because of the unbearable awkwardness in the atmosphere. Besides, I also like to deceive myself that I’m capable of hog-tying that special someone without people throwing in awkwardness, blind dates and set ups in my own journey of searching for “my man.” LOL

Having said all these, you are now more than welcome to label me a pessimist, a weirdo, an insensitive person who lacks the ability to go with the flow, but that’s who I am since the beginning. The moment you meddle with my “single” life, bug me to meet whoever unattached person you know, or even tease me with a stranger I barely know, I’m out. Either I won’t be showing my face to your next party or cursing you for the rest of your life. It’s your call.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s