[ WP ] There is a third gender . It is morphologically , psychologically , sexually and culturally distinct from both men and women . They make up 33 % of the population .

`` Affinedating.com?'' I asked, incredulous. 
 
 `` Just, try it, okay?'' Jane, my sister, asked me. 
 
 `` It's a nice thought,'' I said, not really meaning it. `` but-'' 
 
 Jane visibly gave up. `` Okay, that's cool, do n't worry about it. Mom and Dad and Beb made me promise to say *something* so now I can say I did, right?'' 
 
 `` All three of our parents? Even Beb?'' Of all our parents, I'd have expected Beb to have understood. Had n't ae been in a similar situation aerself? I knew ae had n't married my parents until their mid-twenties, and my parents had been highschool sweethearts. 
 
 `` Sorry,'' Jane said, and she meant it. Parents, what are you going to do? 
 
 Later that night, I checked it out. And it seemed okay, at first. Modern website, but not in a stuffy corporate sort of way. In addition to its obvious purpose, it had polls, forums, games - basically a social network for the affine-lacking. 
 
 And I'd joined the site for maybe an hour, total, before I glanced up at the inbox and saw I had a hundred messages waiting for me. Well,'99+', but if anything that was worse. Of course, I made the mistake of opening those messages. 
 
 > Ayy get, wut u up to? 
 
 > ayyy get 
 
 > ay 
 
 And that was the ones that did n't send pictures of their genitalia. Fully half of the messages in my inbox featured a penis or a labia; a few times couples sent both. I even got a few explicit messages from other Affine, even though I'd checked the `` straight-bisexual'' box. 
 
 I'd forgotten about this, because I'd been trying very hard to forget about it, and the world did not want to let me. Affine dating was rough: when you're a teenager absolutely nobody wants anything to do with you. Men and women of that age are practically monosexual, because guess what? You ca n't have a child if an affine's not involved. Stereotypes of Affine as homo-monosex pretty much all stem from desperate aff teenagers full of hormones and other-gendered classmates who desperately want to not get knocked up. 
 
 Almost immediately after college, that all changes. I went from being a nobody to being talked up by couples constantly. If I was at the bar, sure, it was n't a surprise, but the store? The gas station? Where the hell were all these couples five years ago? 
 
 And it only gets worse. Mid-thirties or so, people start getting desperate. The biological clock may or may not be a real thing, but the biological timer definitely is: You've only got so long until you ca n't have kids. I literally could not leave the house for longer than a few minutes without running into someone who wanted a kid. Not even to take a walk! I'd always thought the Green couple down the street were nice, but nowadays they were kinda creepy with they way they seemed to always be watching me. 
 
 I closed the damn website. Did n't even bother to delete my account, just blocked the reminder e-mails and tried to forget the entire experience. My parents - even beb! - would bug me again come the holidays, and boy would n't that be fun, but I could at least say I'd tried. Hell, Jane could back me up on that one. 
 
 I'd known I was n't actually going to follow through, though. I'd known that relationships were n't for me for a long time. I'd known ever since I'd gotten into that accident in college, ever since the doctors said I'd make a full recovery, but that there were certain long-term complications. And I had n't really realized what that would mean, at the time, but thinking back my doctor had tried to prepare me as best ae could. 
 
 Now, though, I knew. Every day a couple made up some excuse to run into me and chat, I knew. Every time someone with only one wedding ring made eyes at me, I knew. 
 
 I leaned back in my chair, pet my cat, and sighed, knowing none of that was for me. 
 
 What use was a sterile Affine?
