The Search for a Husband

There are very few women who come to my French class in Asnieres who aren't married (or haven't, at some point, been married). A few have been married for papers. A few have had husbands who've left them. A few stay with cruel husbands. A few are in happy marriages.
But that's what they do: they marry.
Well, Jan (the other teacher at Asnieres) and I are not married. The women often try to pawn off their unmarried sons on us. ("You could use a husband," they'll say, nudging a picture toward us like a Yenta. "He's handsome...intelligent...will be rich!")
However, since I'm still in my 20s, the women haven't started panicking about my marital status yet, but Jan, who is in her late 30s, is the object of their constant matchmaking.
The other day, one of the women told Jan, "This Christmas, I'll pray that Santa brings you a husband under your Christmas tree."
"What if I reject him?" Jan asked.
"You're going to have to stop doing what you want all the time," the woman said. "It's time to settle down."
Jan continued, in her usual fashion, explaining that she's picky, that she doesn't want to marry just anyone.
The woman looked at her, halfway joking, halfway serious, and said, "After 50, the market is closed." When Jan didn't immediately respond, she added, "They won't let you in."

Oh my. We had a good laugh about that, and now, I try to throw it into my conversation as often as possible.

So, now let me say to you: "Sorry. After 50, the market is closed."