Holy shiitake mushrooms! This is actually happening? Are we back on? This long-awaited return is over ladies and gents. I know you’ve been waiting, like you do for your food delivery when you’re extremely hungry or for your significant other to get ready (will get to that in a moment). Here we are, back again, and boy, do I have a lot to share.
Let’s start with why it took so long for yours truly to write a new piece. Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe it was the fact that I’ve gone through two very sub-par jobs but I am now in a workplace where I’ve really found what I need for my career, a decent coffee machine and a free parking spot.
So how have you guys been? So much has changed at Khaleejesque. Do you want to know one thing that hasn’t changed? The fact that all male employees after moi have failed. FAILED. HA, HA. I guess it takes true passion and a whole lot of getting in touch with your feminine side, which now brings me to the next topic: Man Outnumbered is now even more outnumbered! Don’t get it? You will in the next three words.
I got married! I’m still waiting on a gift from Captain and the girls but I’ll get to that when I see them in person. Let me take you through the experience I went through so both dudes and dudettes can learn and be more prepared than I was. Firstly, like most significant changes in life, they always involve your mom. To make it short, it went like mom → me → mom → mom’s friend →my aunt → mom → me → mom → engagement.
The first meeting, though, was the most awkward moment of my life. Basically, it was me in a room with my fiancé’s (at that time) grandfather. They could’ve put me in a room with anyone else but they chose to put me in a big, empty room with no one other than the oldest person in their family. The decision maker? Probably. To be fair, he seemed like a cool future grandpa-in-law but then, in came the rest of her family and all of a sudden, in that moment, it felt like I was already engaged, had signed the contract, and had already lived 50 years with my wife. (Love you, honey!)
It’s been almost four months now and I’m still getting the daily surprises every newly-wed would get. For example, waking up to the smell of rose perfume or finding out that, for some reason, she has her toiletries in my bathroom. (Yes, we have our own bathrooms. It saves us time and possibly WW3.) Even simple things feel different. Do I really have to share the TV remote? Can we not sit on different sofas? Don’t get me started on deciding what to order. I did, however, give her the choice of marking her territory on the bed. Choosing a side isn’t really a big deal for me. I secretly stretch mid-sleep and keep my body the way it was mid-stretch until I wake up. Hopefully wifey doesn’t read that part.
The process of choosing the furniture started as a very stressful two-week operation. Going from one furniture store to the other, arguing over the colors of the sofas and if they’d match with the color of the walls. Those two weeks were definitely ones to forget but then somebody came to the rescue, someone who I thought would be the last person to drop down from heaven and save me. Gents would probably know who I’m talking about. Any guesses anyone?
My dad swooped in with a get-out-of-jail card because that’s exactly how it felt. I was a bird in a cage, locked up and never to be set free until my old man became my savior and helped me through the whole furniture purchasing process. You may be wondering where my wife was at the time. Well, she was at home. It could be the fact that we weren’t living together at the time but does it matter now? Not really, because not only did I end up with the sofa set I had my eyes on, but also the dining room and kitchen design, but, I did give her the liberty of choosing the plates and minor living room accessories. (Don’t judge, I didn’t know I was that picky at choosing furniture.)
During the furniture purchasing, moving into the new apartment, and arguing over which laundry detergent we should use, I was far away from my friends so when I did have the chance of seeing them (after coming back from our honeymoon in Italy, which by the way was incredible) it was like I saw them for the first time. I didn’t how to react. Was I to use our secret handshake or was I meant to go in for the formal two-cheek kiss greeting? It was like meeting new people on your first day of school. There was even a moment of silence where we all just looked at each other but then I realized that I’d rather be here rather than argue that we have way too many candles, making our apartment look more like a spa than a home.
All the advice that I received from my friends about marriage being difficult and filled with sacrifices was completely right, but at the same time, it was satisfying knowing that I went through it all and now I am the one with all the advice to give on how to stand still at the wedding and not pass out from shaking hands and touching cheeks with all the guests.
Right now, while I’m writing this piece, my wife is in bed, probably reading one of her novels on marriage advice, which isn’t a good sign but I take it as a compliment. Now that Man Outnumbered is back, I have a question to ask: Am I even more outnumbered now that I’ve gotten married? This is going to be one hell of an experience, one that, for some reason, I’m okay with sharing with all of you.
