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Trivial Annoyances of Married Life
Jul. 24th, 2003 09:53 amI keep having conversations end when people get a good look at my left hand (or, alternatively, a good look at the husband-man, R., who clearly doesn't look as much like a big fluffy puppy to the rest of the world as he does to me). I thought that was bad enough, but now people have stopped paying attention to the left hand, and I have to find some other way out of awkward conversations that are clearly supposed to lead to romance. Sadly, it's not possible to keep R. handy to wander by and clear people off.
Once a conversation starts, there is just no tactful way to say "pardon, but I happen to be married." The response to that is always "oh, I wasn't *hitting* on you." No. Indeed you weren't. You were conducting research on the phenotypic incidence of recessive charecteristics and that's why you had to check if this is my real eye color. You want a drinking buddy and you have no real friends, so you were forced to make do with a stranger you met on the train. Your comments on what a striking coincidence it is that the only two people in this theatre who haven't seen Lawrence of Arabia before have managed to be hanging around the line for the ladies loo at the same time looked absolutely nothing like an attempt to start a romance, and your disappearance into the woodwork immediately after R. wandered on to the scene is not at all suspicious. Mostly, however, I feel used. It's not that I don't sympathize with the desire to get laid, but if you don't care about my opinion of Peter O'Toole, there's no point in asking.
There is also no really tactful way to explain polyamory to people outside the community without it sounding like a come-on. "I'm married, but we have an open relationship and I can sleep with whoever I want," translates to the uninitiated as "I'm looking for a bit on the side, how 'bout it?" What I usually want to say is "I can sleep with whoever I want, but I don't want to sleep with you."
I had another one of these conversations last night, with a twenty-one year-old who followed me around a bookstore for half an hour and then spent several obvious minutes struggling to come up with an opening line. Unfortunately, just about nothing would shake him. I was merciful and just refused him my phone number.
Next time, I'm going straight for the spikes.
Once a conversation starts, there is just no tactful way to say "pardon, but I happen to be married." The response to that is always "oh, I wasn't *hitting* on you." No. Indeed you weren't. You were conducting research on the phenotypic incidence of recessive charecteristics and that's why you had to check if this is my real eye color. You want a drinking buddy and you have no real friends, so you were forced to make do with a stranger you met on the train. Your comments on what a striking coincidence it is that the only two people in this theatre who haven't seen Lawrence of Arabia before have managed to be hanging around the line for the ladies loo at the same time looked absolutely nothing like an attempt to start a romance, and your disappearance into the woodwork immediately after R. wandered on to the scene is not at all suspicious. Mostly, however, I feel used. It's not that I don't sympathize with the desire to get laid, but if you don't care about my opinion of Peter O'Toole, there's no point in asking.
There is also no really tactful way to explain polyamory to people outside the community without it sounding like a come-on. "I'm married, but we have an open relationship and I can sleep with whoever I want," translates to the uninitiated as "I'm looking for a bit on the side, how 'bout it?" What I usually want to say is "I can sleep with whoever I want, but I don't want to sleep with you."
I had another one of these conversations last night, with a twenty-one year-old who followed me around a bookstore for half an hour and then spent several obvious minutes struggling to come up with an opening line. Unfortunately, just about nothing would shake him. I was merciful and just refused him my phone number.
Next time, I'm going straight for the spikes.
