A word of advice to all the men out there: if you’re going to date one woman while you’re quasi-dating another, and you choose to invite the latter to a family function after you’ve already brought the former to an earlier event, you should issue some sort of memo to all of your relatives.
Said memo should read:
Attention aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors and other interested parties:
(Especially those who are getting up there in years…)
Please note that the girl I’m bringing to my brother’s wedding is NOT the same girl I brought to So-and-So’s anniversary party earlier this year.
To avoid confusion (and errant wine glasses being hurled in my direction) please refrain from mentioning She-Whom-Accompanied-Me-The-Last-Time.
Do you see where I’m going with this?
You’ll be pleased to note there were no wine glasses thrown (I am, after all, a woman of dignity, and my aim’s not all that great. I might have accidentally taken out one of parmesan cheese wedges on the antipasto table and I was rather fond of those cheese wedges).
One of Date #7’s elderly uncles did, however, mistake me for his nephew’s previous Plus One.
“Ah yes!” he exclaimed as the requisite introductions were made. “I remember you. You’re the schoolteacher!”
“Yes!” Date #7 replied, a little too eagerly. “That’s right. Kat’s a schoolteacher.”
Well folks, I am not a schoolteacher. I teach dance, yes, and I teach creative movement to preschoolers five mornings a week but I am not a school teacher. That was and Date #7’s previous Plus One, not me.
Being the experienced thespian that I am however, I laughed it off. I had, after all, resolved to enjoy myself at the wedding— regardless of the inevitable awkward moments—and it was, in truth, pretty funny.
Especially when I turned to Date #7 and whispered under my breath, “A schoolteacher? Nice save.”
The Best Man actually managed to catch the entire thing on my camera. (Perhaps he knew the back story and was simply waiting for me to make a scene? And no, before you ask, Date #7 doesn’t really have a gray oval for a head.)
Mind you, the reception, the near drowning, the shrapnel and my first dance with Date #7 have yet to come.
- The (art of avoiding the) Heart of the Matter (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)
- Of High Heels and Mudslides (and no, I’m not talking about the drink) (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)