To say I’m unforgiving when it comes to grammar, particularly when it comes to homophones, would be an understatement. When I was online dating, it was a great way to weed out poor matches–write “to” when you meant “too”? Great, I don’t have to respond to that message. It was the perfect way, in my mind, for me to decide whether we could possibly have a relationship.
So when I got a text yesterday after an hour-long phone conversation that said, “Your fun to talk to,” I almost cringed. I almost deleted the text and wrote the guy off for good. But then I didn’t. Instead, I wondered whether the fact that a grown man had typed “your” instead of “you’re” on his iPhone was truly the devastating catastrophe I’d always thought it to be.
The men I’ve dated have always been decent spellers (they had to be, or I wouldn’t be dating them). So they had that one little thing straight. But what about when it came to the big things?
Did you just say that you can’t contemplate a visit to my family’s place in Ohio because you have no money, yet you’re planning a trip to New Orleans on your own? Perfect!
And what’s that? You have no idea where, geographically, your twin brother is right now and you haven’t spoken to him for years? That’s fine!
Oh, you don’t place any value on me as a human being in comparison to yourself? No problem!
The big things, the things that matter and the things that might possibly predict future relationship success–well, those I just let slide. As long as you can spell, you’re my type. That’s all I need in a man, apparently. That, and a sense of humor.
When I put it like that, I have to admit that maybe it’s kind of ridiculous. Then I picture that scene on Friends (that most people have probably seen even if they’re not obsessed with Friends) when Ross and Rachel get into a huge fight and Ross yells at Rachel:
Y-o-u-apostrophe-r-e means you are. Y-o-u-r means your!
And I think about how I don’t want to look past the grammar thing now, only to, years later when I’m fighting with my husband, throw it in his face. But, I do realize it wouldn’t be as bad as having to say:
You don’t even like me and you never wanted a future with me in the first place!
So I’m letting the “your” slide. To be fair, it was 1 o’clock in the morning.