Listen and Learn

Ok…I’ll admit it. I can’t help myself.  Often, when we eat out or sit waiting for a movie to start with lots of strangers in a theatre, I just have to listen in to the people around me.  Some might call it eavesdropping, and I guess that’s what it is in reality, but, for me, it’s also the chance to get a glimpse into other people’s worlds…to validate my feelings that everybody has a little something going on…sometimes a good something, sometimes a bad something, sometimes just an interesting something. Just yesterday, my husband and I stopped in for a drink at our local suburban sports bar and grill. As I looked out at all the people on that deck, I was taken back to just a few years ago when I sat next to a couple in that same place. They were on a date and discussing, within, two feet of me, loudly, how much they enjoy the “lifestyle.”  For those of you who don’t know..the “lifestyle” is swinging, partner-switching parties and, what sounded like orgies.

Yes…I just said orgies. I’d say that’s definitely in the category of an “interesting” something going on in these people’s lives. Now, tell me that wasn’t a score at the ol’ Friday night hang out for kids’ baseball and soccer teams and their families!  My two kids and husband had just walked away from the table to hit the game room for a bit while I waited for the drinks to come and to place the order for my family. So, I was openly sitting there by myself with nothing to do but hear what the people around me were saying. It started a bit cryptic. A woman in her mid to late 40s and a guy about the same age. They were clearly on an early date in their relationship. You could just tell by how they greeted each other, the kind of stilted, “How was your day?” and “Oh…I didn’t realize you liked a good work out that much” type of conversation. That’s what originally drew me in. The woman was a bit nervous, the man trying to play her a bit. So, I was in…it had potential for a second marriage, later in life type of love. A mini, real-life soap opera right there as I sat staring off by myself trying to busy myself with other things around me…my blackberry, the menu, etc.

Then, he asked her, “So…what did you think that first time?”  Hmmm, I thought…first time for what?  She giggled nervously. “Oh, I don’t know. I wasn’t sure what a party like that would be like.  It wasn’t as unusual as I thought though. The invitation was very tasteful so that helped me feel more at ease. It felt like I could just come and check it out but I didn’t have to participate. Then, I got there and it was like any party and no one pressured me, but it was exciting when I saw people start to leave the room together.”

His response: “Yes…yes. It’s exciting all right.”  He then mumbled something a bit unintelligible but I got the gist…it turned him on and he was baiting her to see if it turned her on too.  She didn’t play along. She giggled in the right spots and smiled and gave him enough tempered response to keep him interested but not to commit. I got the distinct impression that she liked him and wanted some sort of relationship and was either truly interested in this lifestyle or just really interested in dating someone right now and was willing to push her boundaries a little for that. (I was tempted to use the word desperate vs interested here but I’ll reserve that judgment…because, you know, she may have found what she was looking for and all. We’ll say I definitely found what I was looking for in that particular evening out, sitting by myself…because the conversation only got better from there.)

He, starting to get to a point that he was losing some control, was almost unable to hold back his animalistic grunts and man-at-a-strip-club “UHHHH HUHHHH”‘s when he described the next party coming up. She, was saying how she was worried because she had seen a woman from work at the last one and then laughed because when they saw each other at the office the next week, they just smiled knowingly. “I know,” he said. “What’s she going to do? Blow the whistle on you and admit she was there, too?  Hey…maybe you two could hook up at work now.”  Clearly, the hook up…followed by a big “UHHH HUHHHH” did not mean lunch together in his mind. She let that one go. And, then, I had to let it all go because my family had returned.

My husband still laughs about how, when they sat back at the table, I was sitting there trying not to make a scene but staring at him with huge eyes and trying to make him recognize that something BIG had finally happened at a table near us as I sat listening. After years of him dealing with me juggling our conversations and those of the tables around us, I thought he deserved to get in on this action, but he wasn’t able to understand my cryptic eye motions, so he lost out. The story lives on with us though. I finally got to unload it all on him when we got home and the kids went off to play in another room. Months later, we were at the same place and that same couple came back in.  He was wearing a shirt advertising some web site. So my husband checked it out…it mentioned “the lifestyle” but also listed this guy’s past career history…currently a life coach, also, at one point, an internet guy and prior to that some type of entrepreneurship.  Pretty much fits the bill. What didn’t to me, was the woman. After the first time I’d seen them, I had expected her to be dabbling in this after a recent divorce or long-term relationship ending badly. She seemed too nervous, too mainstream.  But, when we saw them again, she seemed much more happy and comfortable in her own skin. The lifestyle was serving her well apparently.

There are people out there living all kinds of lifestyles…they walk among us and we assume they are just like us but each and every person is driven by their own codes, their own morals and their own thoughts, desires and ideas. Just the other day, I sat at a hair salon for several hours getting a treatment done. I chatted with my stylist and read for much of it, but I also listened. You think people will tell a bartender anything…check out what they’ll tell their hair stylists. I heard one woman talking about her nights out recently and wondering aloud why her back was hurting so badly after noting that she’d been dancing all night with several men and didn’t think much of it at the time but maybe, just maybe, the 5 glasses of wine masked the pain when it was happening. I heard others bemoaning their bad marriages and talking about visiting old boyfriends at their workplaces just to check in, not for anything more, of course.  And, even more, discussing troubles at home with their kids….loudly, for all to hear, because they were under hair dryers and were nearly yelling to be heard by the one person they thought they were discussing this with.

Yep…everyone has something…some good, some bad and some just plain interesting. And, I love when I’m able to collect stories, not to judge, not to name names, but just to share. Forget reality TV…this is reality…there are all kinds of lives being lived out there. We can judge or, as long as it’s not hurting anyone, we can enjoy the show. We can also learn a valuable lesson…before you share something very personal in a public place, check out how close you are sitting to the nearest stranger! Because, I for one know there’s plenty in my life people might be watching, listening to what I talk about to my stylist  and judging in quick conversations with their friends that start with “You wouldn’t believe what I just heard” and end with “Man…and she looked so normal!”

The Hussy Who Walks Among Us

It happened. I met a real hussy!  It turns out women working all kinds of angles with men live among us all, even at our neighborhood pools and soccer parties. 

I mean, I knew it.  I really did. I wasn’t fooling myself into thinking that my nice, upscale suburban development and neighbors didn’t house a few interesting personalities.  I just hadn’t seen it in action with my own eyes. And, truth be told. I still haven’t.  I’ve just heard about it and then watched …fully anticipating her to make a bold, public move right in front of my eyes, only left with disappointment when she didn’t.

Why was I so sure?  Well… a very credible source had told me about her behavior at a recent community-based organization’s family camp out night.  She openly hit on one of the fathers there who happened to be attending without his wife.  He, apparently, told her clearly, in front of everyone, he was not interested. My understanding is that she was a little tipsy from taking too many sips from the sterling engraved flasks all southern men carry — they are tangible memories from the string of weddings where they served as groomsman or their frat party days.  Anyhow, they were so busy sharing and re-living their youth that they likely didn’t notice how much she had imbibed and, then, in the end, wrote off her behavior as a bit too much in the alchohol department.  But, it didn’t explain away the next time months later at a neighborhood block party where, again, drunk and seemingly unaware, she hit on men with their wives within earshot. 

Did it make for great neighborhood gossip? Absolutely.  Did it make the men she hit on uncomfortable yet feeling like they’ve still got “it” on some level. You betcha.  Did it give me a great story to watch unfold and later write about?  Yep.  But, you know what it also gave me?  A sense of a woman whose life is in shambles.  And a bit of sorrow for her child who has been in tow for all of this.  She’s clearly lonely, desperate and …let’s face it…a lush.  She seems to be a mess.  And, I had to wonder.  Doesn’t she have the network?  Or, is the network she’s a part of made up of like women…ones who support her behavior because they find it completely acceptable.

If you’re a woman, you know of the network of which I speak.  That group of women who look out for you.  Who take the time to call you out when you act like an ass, laugh the hardest with you when you do something funny and hold your hand when you need some support.  The network doesn’t even need to be someone you know well.  It’s just a “thing” among women.  A quiet thing, one we don’t speak about much. But, it exists.

It has existed for me in many, many forms.  My strongest network is the one I formed in the fourth grade. I made a group of friends who are still my best female friends today. None of us live near each other or talk daily or even weekly or monthly, but we know…we know we’re there for each other.  When we do see each other or talk, it’s as if no time has passed.  And, because we’ve known each other since our youth, we don’t have to put on airs…we know where we’ve come from. We remember the awkward middle school years and the stupid things we all did; the mistakes we made with other girls in the name of popularity; the awkward crushes we had on exceedingly adolescent boys; and the dysfunction we faced with our families as they divorced, faced drug addictions and, in the more atypical case, grew stronger together. And, for that reason, we have nothing left to hide with each other. It’s refreshing and comforting all at once.

I’ve had great adult friendships as well…an amazing colleague turned business partner who felt more like a sister than a friend many times; neighbors who have nurtured each other through career and child-rearing concerns, successes and woes; and female work teams who have taught me a lot.   And, then, there’s been the strangers who just know…it’s their duty to be part of the network.

Just a few weeks ago, I experienced one of the “network strangers.”  I was putting my daughter on a plane…by herself…at age 11…to visit my Mom.  If you’ve read this blog for awhile, you know I despise and fear flying. I despise and fear even more putting my children on a plane.  Putting one on by herself is too much for me.  But, I was pressured.  She and my Mom worked me…they pushed their relationship and their need to bond and my daughter’s need for freedom and, before I knew it, I was at the airport waiting for a plane to take her…without me…and fly her at 25,000 feet or higher above the earth with a bunch of strangers for more than an hour until she was deposited with my Mother. I thought I was being very cool while we sat in the terminal and waited for her to board the plane.  We were sipping our Starbuck’s and laughing about the normal daily stuff we chat about.  Yet, I was reminding her where to keep her ID and when to text me (the second she stepped on the plane, the second she sat in her seat, the second they told her to turn off her phone, the second she turned it back on, the second she saw my Mom coming to meet her, the second she actually was with my Mom, the second they got in her car, etc, etc.).  So…maybe not as cool as I thought.  It became abundantly clear that I wasn’t exactly sending off laid back vibes, when the woman sitting next to us leaned over and said, “We’re about to board. She’ll be fine.  Now, look outside.  You see the fog? That means we’ll be a little late. Don’t worry though. She’s going to do great.”  For a moment, I had a flash of embarrassment…I was clearly a nervous Mom who publicly displayed it.  The flash was gone quickly though because I realized that this woman had no reason to try to make me feel okay, except that she’s female and likely part of her own network…and…more likely…just innately driven to help other women in need.

She was just what I needed in that moment. It broke the tension and made my daughter laugh…as soon as the woman walked away, she said, “Mom…aren’t you embarrassed?  A total stranger had to calm you.”

My answer:  “No. I’m not embarrassed. I’m pleased.  What a nice woman.” 

Truly…what a nice woman.  In that moment, she became part of my network. An important part.  Who knows what her true network is…she may be part of the hussy network that supports those women like the one I experienced at our block party or the other ones in my close community that aren’t to be trusted because they don’t respect normal social mores. They do things like only speak to other women’s husbands and talk amongst themselves (never greeting the other wives)…but that’s a whole other blog.  So…regardless of what the airport woman’s “home network” entailed, she came through for me…in the moment…when I needed it. 

You just have to love women and the feminine mystique.  It’s almost inexplicable yet totally able to be described.  How cool is that?!

They Say The Truth Shall Set You Free

“We all rejoiced that a good, hardworking woman was finally getting her due, and swooned as she constantly lavished acceptance-speech praise on her seemingly smitten husband — her Prince Charming in this picture-perfect scenario. That’s what makes the reports that Bullock’s five-year marraige is in jeopardy so surprising, so sad….And the worst part– for us, people who, admittedly have no stake in this — is that it blows up the story line we had worked out. We wanted her to have a happy ending — a revived career, an Oscar, a great man — to prove to us it was possible for someone.”

That’s Entertainment Weekly‘s take on the Sandra Bullock debacle. For those of you who don’t know…she recently had a 12 month run of success, awards, accolades and hit a career high with an Oscar win — all the while praising those who supported her and helped her become a stable, smart, together person who could handle such success as well as accept a strong man and a strong marriage that, in turn, made her who she was. After all that…her husband was outed for allegedly cheating on her with a tattoo-ed and pierced pin up “model.”  All the better, the affair has apparently been going on for 10 months.

While I completely agree with Entertainment Weekly…this is what we all want to believe is reality — the Cinderella story — what IS reality to most people across this world is exactly what happened.  I mean…after the Oscar win and kind acknowlegement of her husband in the acceptance speech, I began counting down. Wondering when the other shoe would drop. Call me a cynic. Call me whatever you’d like, but I was right.

It’s not an unheard of story, right?  Woman finds success. Man, strong man with his own reputation, isn’t so sure he likes it but doesn’t speak up…it would be wrong to admit it threatens him. So, instead, he plays around a little seeing what it feels like when he’s with someone who makes him look important, feel like the bigger person.  That scene has played out numerous times in my personal life…starting with boys in Junior High and moving on to my own Father and Mother in my young adult years.

Don’t get me wrong though…I’m not a man-hater. I don’t think it only works one way. The male ego is one thing that drives these types of cheating relationships, but I’ve seen plenty of wrongdoing on the female side too.

Actually not too long ago, a good friend called and said, “My husband left me.” I hestitated. Did I hear that right?  I mean not many people react perfectly to that type of phone call.  You hear the news, you process it and then…take my word on this one…the word of experience…whether it’s you, a loved one or a friend saying it, it smashes itself down in the middle of your world.  So, you go into “friend” mode.  “What? Why? Wait…I’m so sorry.  Are you okay?”

Interesting thing about this scenario….he had real reason to leave.  He was wronged. Almost immediately in our conversation, she quickly admitted she had a connection with someone else that led to conversations and what else?  I didn’t ask and she didn’t tell.  But her husband found out and he left and she was left to clean up the mess – a big, sloppy, dark stain on the life they’d built together – one that she wholly admits to creating.

Even more interesting to me….I took her side. I despise cheating.    It ruined our already-feeble family when I was younger…delivered the final blow.  It was more than 20 years ago and I’m still not over it.  I’ve had other friends who’ve done it or had it done to them and I cut off the cheater…never looking back.  Done.  Don’t even care to know the details. Yet, this time when the woman – my friend – may have wronged, I found empathy inside myself.  Was it that this time it was a woman and not a man doing the cheating?  Was it that I’d watched her try to keep her marriage together for years and I knew this was the act of a desperately lonely woman trapped in a bad marriage versus that of a malicious person?  Or, was it just that she owned it so openly?

I’ve always been one who loves it when a person takes responsibility for their actions.  And, let’s face it.  Most cheaters have a million excuses and rarely admit what they really did.  The perfect example is another close friend whose husband cheated. She never received closure either. She had lots of evidence of some type of relationship but it stopped short of proving any consummation of the relationship beyond a reasonable doubt.  He continues to cling to that doubt every day as his life raft.  I’m exhausted just watching.  Seriously, how deafeningly tiring must it be to hang on to that last bit of dishonesty until your knuckles are white, your joints are locked and your fingers no longer feel sensation?

They say the truth shall set you free.  For me, with my friend and her open, flat-out, call a spade a spade honestly, it did just that.  The thing I thought I hated the most was a cheater.  Really, though, it’s the deceit.

In this world of imperfection, things get messy and go awry, but everybody wants to sweep it under the rug or pretty it up.  I can name five couples who are facing these types of issues right this second….make that six…no seven…You get the picture.  It’s common.  It happens often, but bold-faced honesty, accepting one’s actions and consequences, dealing with it head on…so far, only one person comes to mind there.  So, I responded to that phone call and I continued to stand by her.  I told her no matter how mad you are at yourself, you have someone on your side.  And, then I looked and found myself there…that person on her side…just as surprised as she was.

Who knew?  The woman who occasionally still dreams at night about physically harming the tramp who helped break up her childhood family is standing by a cheater and is damn proud of it.  Amazing what each day brings!