I went to a fundraiser Saturday night.

This is a big thing since I don’t go out much.

It was part of the wife’s high school reunion group and there were over 300 people and some very loud 60’s style bands.

It’s no surprise everyone around my age is deaf.
But this isn’t about that.

This is about being seated at a table with nine of her girlfriends.

The wife, as usual, was volunteering so I showed up on my own about an hour after it started.

I timed it for when the buffet line opened.
One has to be smart about this stuff.

Almost anything is okay if there’s food.

No other husbands were at this table – they had enough sense to stay home.

This was either a good or a bad thing.

On one side they’re all talking about whatever and I couldn’t understand a word being said because the bands were so loud.

It’s always dangerous to be charming when one can’t hear the questions being asked.

Being the token male I felt I had to be polite and engaged and sop up the love being aimed my way.

For all I know I may have been nodding and smiling while being asked if I beat up any little old ladies or robbed a bank recently.

Sometimes you just have to take your chances.

On the other hand, being the only guy at the table I got a lot of hugs and I’m always up for that.

But you have to be very careful how you return that hug.

After all, these are the wife’s girlfriends and sometime they’ll talk on the phone and every detail and nuance of that hug will be discussed and dissected.

There’s always a chance I may have stepped across some invisible line in the placement of a hand or how long it was before I let go, or what parts accidently or otherwise touched.

Now, the wife isn’t jealous but these things can still be a minefield.

You go into these things taking your chances and hoping the sun will shine the next day.

It’s been 36 hours and nothing has been said.

I may have dodged a bullet.

I have tried for years to understand the wife and her girlfriends.

There is no understanding.
It’s an entirely different universe.

But I have learned that men are last in line when it comes to women deciding who they want to spend their time with unless it involves manual labor or changing light bulbs.

The wife will sit for hours on the phone with her girlfriends discussing every part of their day in such great detail her phone battery dies before she’s done.

What possibly could be that interesting?

And if another girlfriend calls, she’ll happily go through the whole thing again.

Some nights three or four in a row will call and I need to escape the area immediately.
That much information would make a guy’s head explode.

Men stand in the hallways scratching ourselves, mutter a few words about last night’s game and then wander off after 30 seconds.

I don’t think I’ve ever spent more than 2 or 3 minutes on the phone with a friend in my entire life.

Guys don’t need a detailed explanation of my day – unless it involved swimsuit models or a new beer – and I sure don’t want to hear it from them.

When the wife gets chatty over dinner about one of her friends I will feel  my sanity slipping away.

Some simple story can include a weather report, the color of the walls, what they had for lunch, the dress she was wearing and a complete biography of her friend’s family, including relatives in far-off lands.

When I politely say I don’t need all that information, I get the look.

You know the look.
It’s instinctual and it’ll stop a clock and freeze men’s hearts.

Every man in the world has had the look aimed at them one time or another.

It usually is because they are wanting to do something the wife doesn’t agree to but won’t tell you.

“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay, just checking. I’m going to go clean the garage.”

Another look.

It’s amazing we sometimes make it to middle age.