Table Seven

I actually had a man say to me tonight….
I am about to be real transparent. I realize there is an age difference, I am married and well, black… But, if we were the same age and in elementary school together, I would bet that when you graduated it would be from the special school for pregnant girls because of me.

I still am not real sure what to say.

I have a non-date. Didn’t even need the caddy. A non-date because I am going to guess there will be caddies involved even if they were not involved in the inviting. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. T minus 23 minutes and chances are I am not going to be on time. Just got home from work, have to put on skates to dress the part of cool, laid-back and fun when in reality, I am high-strung, anxious and oddly butterflied bellied. But still pretty fun. Here’s hoping…

Violated by my own lack of attention, I think. From what I can tell I clicked the doors locked before the passenger side door was shut all the way, or maybe I didn’t click the locks at all or maybe I actually clicked unlock instead of lock. None the less, I was violated. But my car was not jimmied at all. I walked out to my car this morning to find the glove compartment open, the console rummaged through. A pair of shoes and some books untouched in the backseat.
It took a second to click that I didn’t leave the car that way. I had come out to the car before I went to bed to grab some work that had been resting deep since I left the office Friday. Unfortunately, I remembered that I had slipped my wallet in the glove compartment on Saturday night because my handbag was not big enough to carry the entire wallet. Sure enough. Wallets gone. And my little arm band walkman that I use at the park gone as well. Check book, in the wallet. Day-um.
I spent the better part of the morning hours at the bank not only changing my checking account, but also my savings to be safe. My insurance cards, with my social security number printed big and bold, also in the wallet. So now I have some fraud protection that I am not so sure works, as I didn’t actually speak with a person when I called. I spelled the details of my personal life to some awful computer program that when I would shout Operator with meaning, it responded with That is not a valid entry. Bastards. Someone is supposed to check with me before they open a credit card in my name. I am not convinced.
I am pretty sure that the crackheads were disappointed with what they found. I might have had $12 or $17 in the wallet. I did have a couple of ones in the glove comparment as well, which were taken. The CDs in the glove compartment were left untouched, as was my manual for the car and the picture of Papou.
Maybe that is what scared them off, now that I think about it. He was quite a stern man, in stature and facial expression. My yiayia placed his picture in my glove compartment the week I bought the car… And I am giving you a picture of Papou. I will put it in here. He was a fan of road trips. With that my Yiayia placed a picture of Papou in the glove compartment above the car manual. A black and white picture circa 1980, maybe. This was right after we poured holy water on my tires.
Sidetracked. Sorry. So I have new accounts, new insurance cards, new checks, a new ID ordered, and a new attitude.
I have to, have to pay more attention. All the time.

It’s rained the whole weekend. Without an end in sight, or on the doppler. And I have logged more telvision hours than I wish to admit to, unfortunately. Lots of marathons. Too many. Monk beat out the others today. Tomorrow L&O:ci (my least favorite as far as L&O’s go, so hopefully that will keep me from vegging too long.) I think I have been watching too much USA lately, but today too much without question. Really love Monk. That Adrian is something else, OCD and all. But the more I watch the more I am realizing that I am starting to agree with Debra Messing in The Starter Wife (which I already have ready to dvr, by the way) But really, all I want is one great kiss.

Before I moved back home, I was here fairly often, monthly, every six weeks - at least. And I would see my friends. Singletons, marrieds, greeks, gringos, gays, straights, olders, youngers and even the related. Granted, often times, I would see many of these people because there was an event of some sort, a wedding or a shower or we made a plan.
And when I would inquire with one of the men in my life (MIML) about one of our friends, he would so very often explain to me that he was single and therefore the marrieds, almost married and afianced don’t include singletons within their daily social comings and goings. I fought and argued and frankly couldn’t believe that my marital and dating status would make a difference in my social life.
So now I am home. Have been for over a year. And that MIML was absolutely correct. For some reason, which is truly beyond my realm of understanding, the fact that Mr.Wonderful hasn’t swept me off my feet into wedded bliss or the thought that perhaps I can’t get a man, keep a man, or make a man happy also means that I cannot run within the same social circle as some of my married friends, of whom I also consider or used to consider close friends.
This is not the case with everyone and yes, there are some people who consistently include me in their plans, parties, events, memorable moments, birthday parties and dinners. And I am grateful and truly enjoy and appreciate those dearies in my days. But I am intrigued there is this large contingency of people that simply do not include singletons.
I am not at a loss for a social life, so I am not so sure that this a complaint for sitting alone on a Friday night, but moreso that because of my singletonness, I have suddenly fallen into a realm that is not included with people that I otherwise ran around with regularly. Maybe, where my friends that are males are concerned, it is more a case of their wives not liking me. Maybe since I am not having sex for the purpose of procreating, I do not fit in their conversations over dinner. Maybe it is because I do not know how to knit. Maybe it really is because I haven’t yet located the man of my dreams or just the man who wants to take me on as a project for life.
The idea that someone doesn’t necessarily like me; doesn’t like my views on politics, religion or fashion; or thinks that I eat more than I actually bring to the table are all viable possibilities. But I doubt it. And I do not think it is because I will make the group number odd, if I come alone? I am agreeing with the MIML more and more that they simply chose to exclude me based on my marital status. I do not fit into couple time. When you are in a relationship and specifically when you are married, most of the time is coupletime, you usually share a roof, a bank account, decisions. And as a single member of society, I share nothing if I so choose. I can live alone, eat alone, sleep alone, go alone. My only responsibility is me. That doesn’t make me selfish or unpleasant. Although maybe at times I am, on that same token, I know plenty of marrieds who are selfish and unpleasant.
As childish as I may sound, why can’t my friends and their significant others like me for me and include me because they simply want to have me around. One would think it should be easier.