Why I am contemplating having a glass of wine at 2 in the afternoon
It is a blissful, glorious, sunny, happy day here in Kerrisdale. My day started off well: up at nine to make it to see Lisa my hairdresser, who makes me look and feel like a million dollars. If only I could re-create what the hell it is she does on my own; so really I only look and feel like a million bucks until the next time I wash my hair. After she removed all the papers from my hair (more highlights) she asked Peter to wash it and to give me a massage. Peter is… I’m not really sure what his job description is. He answers the phone, sweeps up, washes hair, is Greek, is ridiculously good looking and I saw him cut someone’s hair once. So I’m not really sure what job title is on his business card. At any rate, he shampoos my hair for what seems to be an extraordinarily long period of time. I was a little tense (as I tend to be whenever attractive men are holding and touching my head for prolonged periods of time while leaning dangerously close) and I actually had my hands clenched together underneath my pretty pink smock. After a few minutes I began to relax. Eeees nice. He rinsed the shampoo from my hair and applied conditioner and continued to massage my head. And then he asked me to sit up and proceeded to massage my neck, head, ears, temples and forehead. I ceased to care that I likely looked like a drowned rat, or that the occasional rivulet of water was streaking down my face. I was unconcerned that my eyes were closed and the expression on my face probably belied just how much I was enjoying myself. Thoughts such as “I don’t need a boyfriend, I just need Peter to come by and do this to me for an hour a couple of times a week” and “would it be inappropriate to lick his fingers?” and “I think I’m going to have a nap when I get home” flitted through my head.
At some point we made it back to the sink to wash the conditioner out of my hair and I was saddened to think that the touching was going to come to an end. Lisa stopped by to see how I was doing and seemed to want to take over and I said, “No” and Peter asked that she please not interrupt us so she said, “Okay, I’ll just leave you two alone then”. I’m actually not making that up: it happened. So I got to have more massaging. Then he rinsed the conditioner out of my hair and inadvertently allowed a couple of droplets of water to find their way onto my face. He gently dabbed them away with a towel. Yep. I was halfway between sleep and arousal and I really didn’t care. Apparently it doesn’t take much these days.
At any rate, it all came to an end and it cost me a day’s pay: but I look good. I hopped in my car to head home and decided to return yesterday’s phone call from my mother. We’re chatting amicably away and then she says “oh, now I remember what I wanted to ask you yesterday: Susan wanted to know if – now that you’re single – you would be offended if just you are invited to Spencer and Jill’s wedding”. Spencer is my cousin who, after close to a decade of dating Jill, is getting married. I love Jill; she’s going to be a phenomenal addition to our family. Susan is my aunt and Spencer’s mom. I’m driving down 41st, enjoying the sunny day, the feeling of relaxation I always get from a good massage and I start to think yeah, I’m pretty sure I am offended. The more I thought about it actually, the more offended I became. My mom mentioned that Spencer and Jill were trying to pare down their guest list, which is why Susan was asking.
Here are a few things that have happened to me in my life which I found less offensive than what my mother was asking of me: a friend of mine slept with a guy that I had a crush on when I was 19; my mom once asked me why I couldn’t be more like my friend Carrie because she had long blonde hair and coltish legs, and I guess I was more like a circus freak; a man approached me at the Funky Planet, said that I looked familiar and wanted to know if I was a stripper from the club next door; I once walked, naked, in front of the television while my then-boyfriend was watching it and he didn’t seem to notice; when I was hired to work as a cook at the Pantry the manager there said it was a good hire because they “needed more women in the kitchen”. Yes. All these fun things happened to me but I still found them less offensive than my mother’s proposition. Because, if you dissect it, the proposition really can be read as this: since your six year relationship has ended (because Michael did not want to marry you, ironically) would you mind attending this wedding alone since you’re single. Sure, Michael was a part of our family for the past six years, and yes you’re still friends and are entertaining the idea of dating, but he can’t come. Is it okay if you sit there by yourself and watch your cousin in a ceremony that you conceivably might never be able to experience in your life? Would that offend you? They’re trying to pare the list down.
The rest of the conversation went really well and resulted in my mother hanging up on me. After a while I called back and tried to explain just why I felt it was offensive and suggested that if they were trying to limit the list that perhaps I would just not attend so they could add a couple of friends in my place (I mean, who really cares if their cousins are at their weddings or not?). Apparently that was not the thing to say because my lack of attendance would offend my aunt Susan. The woman that wanted to know if I would be okay if I could come solo. I said, “my not showing up would offend Susan? It’s not her wedding”. And it would also be “a slap in the face” to my grandmother if I didn’t come. I said, “uh, do you think the people that are getting married would care?”. This is what is stupid about weddings: the formalities; what is appropriate; the proper protocol. All of a sudden I was being unreasonable for having the gall to be offended at being asked to attend the wedding alone; I had upset my mother; I had dismayed my aunt; and my grandmother was going to disown me. So then I hung up on my mother. Now we’re even.
I think I will invite Peter to the wedding. We can sit in the corner and he can furtively rub my temples…
At some point we made it back to the sink to wash the conditioner out of my hair and I was saddened to think that the touching was going to come to an end. Lisa stopped by to see how I was doing and seemed to want to take over and I said, “No” and Peter asked that she please not interrupt us so she said, “Okay, I’ll just leave you two alone then”. I’m actually not making that up: it happened. So I got to have more massaging. Then he rinsed the conditioner out of my hair and inadvertently allowed a couple of droplets of water to find their way onto my face. He gently dabbed them away with a towel. Yep. I was halfway between sleep and arousal and I really didn’t care. Apparently it doesn’t take much these days.
At any rate, it all came to an end and it cost me a day’s pay: but I look good. I hopped in my car to head home and decided to return yesterday’s phone call from my mother. We’re chatting amicably away and then she says “oh, now I remember what I wanted to ask you yesterday: Susan wanted to know if – now that you’re single – you would be offended if just you are invited to Spencer and Jill’s wedding”. Spencer is my cousin who, after close to a decade of dating Jill, is getting married. I love Jill; she’s going to be a phenomenal addition to our family. Susan is my aunt and Spencer’s mom. I’m driving down 41st, enjoying the sunny day, the feeling of relaxation I always get from a good massage and I start to think yeah, I’m pretty sure I am offended. The more I thought about it actually, the more offended I became. My mom mentioned that Spencer and Jill were trying to pare down their guest list, which is why Susan was asking.
Here are a few things that have happened to me in my life which I found less offensive than what my mother was asking of me: a friend of mine slept with a guy that I had a crush on when I was 19; my mom once asked me why I couldn’t be more like my friend Carrie because she had long blonde hair and coltish legs, and I guess I was more like a circus freak; a man approached me at the Funky Planet, said that I looked familiar and wanted to know if I was a stripper from the club next door; I once walked, naked, in front of the television while my then-boyfriend was watching it and he didn’t seem to notice; when I was hired to work as a cook at the Pantry the manager there said it was a good hire because they “needed more women in the kitchen”. Yes. All these fun things happened to me but I still found them less offensive than my mother’s proposition. Because, if you dissect it, the proposition really can be read as this: since your six year relationship has ended (because Michael did not want to marry you, ironically) would you mind attending this wedding alone since you’re single. Sure, Michael was a part of our family for the past six years, and yes you’re still friends and are entertaining the idea of dating, but he can’t come. Is it okay if you sit there by yourself and watch your cousin in a ceremony that you conceivably might never be able to experience in your life? Would that offend you? They’re trying to pare the list down.
The rest of the conversation went really well and resulted in my mother hanging up on me. After a while I called back and tried to explain just why I felt it was offensive and suggested that if they were trying to limit the list that perhaps I would just not attend so they could add a couple of friends in my place (I mean, who really cares if their cousins are at their weddings or not?). Apparently that was not the thing to say because my lack of attendance would offend my aunt Susan. The woman that wanted to know if I would be okay if I could come solo. I said, “my not showing up would offend Susan? It’s not her wedding”. And it would also be “a slap in the face” to my grandmother if I didn’t come. I said, “uh, do you think the people that are getting married would care?”. This is what is stupid about weddings: the formalities; what is appropriate; the proper protocol. All of a sudden I was being unreasonable for having the gall to be offended at being asked to attend the wedding alone; I had upset my mother; I had dismayed my aunt; and my grandmother was going to disown me. So then I hung up on my mother. Now we’re even.
I think I will invite Peter to the wedding. We can sit in the corner and he can furtively rub my temples…
posted by Duder at 2:53 PM
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