Failed Sexuality
December 7th, 2006.One morning, my husband and I went out to breakfast at a busy little restaurant. It was Sunday morning and the place was packed, so we made our way to the hostess to give her our name. The hostess recognized me, but even though I’m generally pretty good with faces, I had no fucking idea who she was.
After a few minutes of vague conversation, I realized that we must have attended high school together. With vital information like that at my disposable, I began to feel confident that I could fake my way through this dialogue. I quickly and safely fell back on the ol’ ‘Have you seen so-and-so’ routine.
As we all know, woman are prone to gossip and she reveled in every name I dropped. Filled with glee, she smugly said, “Isn’t it funny that all the popular kids who were so above everyone else didn’t amount to much?”
That’s a pretty catty thing to say.
And ironic, too, considering that she was working the door of some crappy restaurant.
But, I wasn’t trying to start shit. I was trying to have a pleasant conversation while I waited for my table. So, taking her cue with the cattiness, I answered, “Yea and a bunch of them got fat, too!”
My husband, who up until this point had been pretending he couldn’t hear us, suddenly grabbed my arm and harshly whispered into my ear, “What are you doing?”
Confused, I murmured, “Hmmm?”
I turned back towards my old high school associate and that’s when the light finally went off in my head. I recognized her.
But more importantly, I realized why I didn’t recognize her in the first place.
She had gained about 100lbs.
At the precise instant I came to that realization, she started stammering excuses, claiming that she had 3 kids. But honestly? I was probably more embarrassed than she was. After all, what kind of fucking idiot makes a fat joke without first noticing the weight of the person they are talking to?
Anyway, situations like this illustrate perfectly why my friendships with women never work out. I lack the ability to be catty with any skill and dexterity. What kind of woman fails at gossiping 101?
I don’t blame people in the least for reading my writing and dubbing me a man. If I lacked access to my own boobs and vagina, it’s likely that I’d question myself.
January 19th, 2007 at 3:25 pm
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