Have you ever noticed that when single people congregate, the attitude towards each person’s relationship status remains a relative non-issue, but if you introduce a couple in a happy relationship to the group, the dynamic changes dramatically? Suddenly, it’s no longer good enough that you’re enjoying your youth, meeting different types of people and not pressuring yourself to explore a relationship with people you wouldn’t trust to walk your dog let alone take you on a date.

In my experience, once people decide that they are satisfied with their partner, they feel it important — their mission — to try and find a partner for single friends. At first, the act is casual, perhaps arranging group hangouts, which serve as a “singles mingle” event without the need to announce a desire for people to pair up. If that fails to produce results, “accidental” run-ins with single acquaintances at places you frequent with friends become noticeably more regular before resorting to the excruciatingly dreadful blind date.

People often reason that it’s comfortable for couples to spend time with other couples, but really? When people are in a relationship — especially during that early honeymoon phase where it is perceived that nothing can be better than actually being in a relationship — do couples even pretend to care what is going on around them? No. That is why high schools have rules banning public displays of affection, colleges have to explicitly list sex as a banned activity while one’s roommate is in the room, or why any man has ever seen a movie based on a Nicholas Sparks book.

That’s well and good, but what’s my point, you ask? Calm down. I’m getting there.

A co-worker and I were talking today about a wedding she is attending this Friday in New York. Being that my friend is not currently dating anyone, she was considerate enough to RSVP with no “plus one” thinking it unnecessary to force someone to skip a day of work for an event that maintained no personal meaning to them. Big mistake. A flurry of calls throughout the morning between my co-worker and the bride-to-be turned what was meant to be a casual, entertaining affair into a semi-awkward blind date (and this sentence into an over-hyphenated mess).

And herein lies the problem that single people face when spending time with their committed friends: seating charts.

That’s right, whether they know it or not, I contend that the very reason committed people are so determined to play matchmaker is the fear that, one day, the person they are dating will propose and the thought of sitting a group of rowdy, single friends amongst family-members at tables with an even-number of chairs will cause so much havoc that it must be avoided at all costs. It sound far-fetched, but I’m convinced this concern exists if only on a subconscious level.

Outside of setting up their friends, people in relationships are nearly oblivious to or unconcerned with what goes on outside the realm of the entity that is the couple. Think about it: What’s really in it for a couple to make their friends start dating? Do they care that someone else is a third wheel when they go out? Do they worry that seeing their single friends all the time will remind them of the allure of not having sex regularly? Or could it be a concern that you may one day witness Cooper, the beer-bonging jackass your fiancé pledged with, strike out with every bridesmaid before collapsing in the lap of your great-aunt Tammy 40 minutes into the reception? Yeah, I thought so. If only you could introduce him to a nice young woman that will straighten him out. Come to think of it, didn’t Melissa just break up with her boyfriend…