A Day In The Life Of A Certified Third Wheel

If you’re looking for the most dedicated “third wheel” to tag along on your dates with your significant other, you’ve just met the person: me.

I pride myself on serving a lifetime sentence of singlehood, which is to me the number one qualification for the “job”. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not your average goody two-shoes nor a man-hater. I’m a rebellious spirit but have some reservations in the relationship department. I’m old school; I’d rather have a guy confess his feelings for me than chase him just so I could be free from the curse of being a spinster. In other words, I just came to accept my fate that men won’t find me interesting enough to be a partner. That I’m more suited to fill the needs of couples by becoming their “extra” for their #RelationshipGoals’s sake.

Enough with the self-pitying. Let me walk you through a day in the life of a third wheel.

Throughout the course of 28 years, I’ve graduated from being a chaperone who would chastise dating friends when they misbehave, into a full-fledged extra who is supposedly the number one fan of couples in my circle. On any day, I would get an invitation to join a couple for snacks or drinks. In exchange for the free food, I would take photos of them for Facebook and Instagram documentation. Whether they’re holding hands or making out, I need to press the shutter on them so common friends would be foaming in the mouth out of envy once the images are uploaded on the web.

I am also responsible for “filling communication gaps”; that is, someone who could spice things up when the conversation gets boring. I’m not saying that most couples I know are just in it for show. Actually, some of them wouldn’t mind if you cut your friend’s babble midsentence just to spare them from a coma brought about by uninteresting talk. Whenever I’m around, they get to chat about deeper things like politics and current events.

Whenever the couple I’m being tagged along with goes for a shopping spree, I would offer help on carrying their purchases so they could hold hands while walking. I don’t think of it as a form of slavery; I just have to make sure the couple spends quality time with each other and carrying shopping bags spoils that moment. In return, they would drive me home in one piece, with a takeout to boot.

Of course, I have to sit at the back of the car. The couple would need more intimate moments before they go home. I would never prevent them from doing such while on the road. I myself won’t like it if someone had to spoil the night by interfering with our goodnight kiss. An exception must be made for when the couple is riding a motorcycle. I have to ride between them because I’m not use to it.

As I’m writing it all down, I’ve come to realize that I’m a generous third wheel. I’m so generous that I would often forget about my own happiness. In my pursuit to make moments memorable for the couples I know, I’ve become a commodity to them; an indispensable party that makes everything alright. Seeing them happy somehow fills the void in my heart, the one that needs to be filled by an actual significant other who would do things I let other people do when I’m with them. But while I’m waiting for that man, I’ll just be contented with supporting other people’s lovelife.