I love the sit-com Whitney. Missed episodes are on my DVR list. It’s not a big ratings grabber, but I think it’s funny. There was an episode a while back where the main character, Whitney (expertly played by Whitney Cummings), and her boyfriend Alex decide to adopt a shelter dog. If anyone has adopted a shelter dog lately, you know the application process. In classic Whitney form, Whitney gets into an argument with the receptionist at the shelter over the “marital status” check box. See, she and Alex are living together – not technically married – and there is no check box for that.
Whether it’s medical, financial, or any other type of institution that requires such forms, they’re basically the same. A check box followed by: Single, Married, Divorced, and Widowed.
With yesterday being the grand poopah of all things romance, it brought to memory a situation I had similar to Whitney’s. I was filling out a form somewhere for something and balked at the marital status options. I’ve been divorced 27 years. Haven’t remarried and I’m not a widow. I’m single. I’m not in a relationship so that shouldn’t confuse the check box inspector. I’m single. I told the lady, “after twenty-seven years of being divorced, I’d like to be single again.”
Didn’t fly. Her response was along the line of “once divorced, always divorced”. I argued that no, I was once married, now I’m not, therefor I’m single. She looked at me like I had grown a second head.
I caved and begrudgingly checked the “divorced” box. What about the poor person who may have lost their first spouse then divorced their second? Technically, they’re widowed, divorced, and single. Ha! Take that, check box inspector. Next time I fill out a form, I’m going to answer: Eyes – 2; Sex – on occasion, and so on. I mean, unless it’s something I really need like emergency medical care, then I’ll probably cave again and continue to check “divorced”.