A conversation with a friend

Tonight, I had a conversation with a friend who told me he thinks that all women secretly hate each other.

I disagree.

I’ve talked about my girlfriends here and here, so it’s safe to say I don’t secretly or overtly for that matter, hate them.

For the purpose of this post, I’m going to go with his suggestions, women I work with, and women I see at the mall, and to be fair, I’ll start out right away, just for my friend and say, Yeah, I think the women that do this, are astronomically STUPID. I still don’t hate them, but they sure as hell hate me (at least for a few hours).

I wasn’t a part of the ‘in-crowd’ in high school. These are the girls that I think my friend is referring to. The girls that said hi to you in the morning as you passed each other on the way to class, and trashed you in the ladies room during ’10-minute break’.

I had the kind of friends that I’d lay down in traffic for. With my 20 year reunion only a few months away, I’ve already decided that the two people I’m traveling with are really the only two people I ever need to see from high school again. It’s no coincidence that I’m still friends with them after all these years. I keep the people I love to the very best of my ability, and hold no grudges for the time lost. But, I digress.

Unfortunately, I do know the women he’s referring to. I want to deny it, but I’d be a liar if I played completely dumb on this. Part of me wants to defend these women. It wants to say that women in general have been torn down so much, so often and so harshly by the same people who claim to love them, that they look out at the world, at the rest of the women in the world, and see a reflection that resembles the naked body marred by the plastic surgeons black marker. Starkly calling attention to their every flaw and distorting any positive trait.

I understand the distortion pain provides and know how it can cloud your judgment.

The other part of me sounds more like this.

I’m truly sorry.
It is not the end of the world.
You are not the only one who has had bad things happen to them.
It is not the rest of humankind’s fault.
You can either be a victim or a survivor
There are million places, people and things you can do to work through it. Find one that works for you and get to it.
No time like the present.
Chop. Chop.

(And now you all know why I'm not getting paid to counsel anyone on anything).

Am I over-simplifying? Probably. Of course there are some things that happen to people that if I said something, anything in that last paragraph I’d deserve to have my head kicked in by anyone listening, or perhaps, everyone listening, at the same time. For the sake of this argument, please know it’s not those people, or those things that I’m talking about.

I AM talking about your average run of the mill catty coworker, gym member, or chick in the Limited at your local shopping mall (aka the 7th circle of hell).

You see these women, on a good day, you can even feel them giving you the once over, checking out your companions, your outfit, hair, makeup, whatever. Sometimes if you’re good, you can catch their look of disapproval before they quickly try to look benign again.

I find it happening to me, in the company elevator. The door side of our elevators is all mirrors (so are the ceilings for anyone interested in a little 70’s flashback/come-a-basic instinct action) when women get in they immediately start fussing with themselves, OR they start scoping you out.

Here’s my secret, the second I catch them, I compliment them, on anything. Their shoes, dress, whatever. You can always tell you’ve just got an insecure mess on your hands (as opposed to spinach in your teeth or toilet paper stuck to your shoe) if they fall all over themselves being nice, when seconds before you could hear the alley cat howl forming in the back of their throat.

Truth be told, they’ve all been genuine compliments.
I see what’s really in the mirror.

Answer your question, T?