To know how married I am, you have to compare me to who I was. I used to be smooth. Not a player, we all have that friend who meets tons of women and seems to do well with all of them, that wasn't my strong point. Nor was I the guy who was the swordsman -- the one who told of his frequent conquests, and had a seemingly endless supply of women at hand. I was just smooth.
I was the guy who, once a woman showed interest, could strike up a conversation and keep her talking. I could find common ground, and I'd usually get either a date, or a number. See, smooth.
But something has happened over the decade that I've been married. (Note: Yes, I said decade, so if you had the under in the pool, you lost.) While my other married friends speak longingly of the past, I don't. They look at women now, and still believe they could charm them. I don't. Truth be told, even in my fantasy life I'm married.
Why? Because I'm very married.
I never knew how much so until a plane trip to Grand Cayman Island. I was set to perform on a cruise ship, and on the flight down there I was seated next to a lovely young lady. I'll admit this was a welcome change, because most flights I get seated next to the family with 11 screaming babies, or the salesman with the drinking problem. Sometimes I get the zealot trying to sell me his god. This trip was different, I got the hottie.
She sat down next to me for the four hour flight, we exchanged pleasant hellos, then she did something that a woman other than my wife hasn't done to me in years. She smiled a devilish smile at me.
There is a smile that women have that isn't a prelude to sex, but it is an invitation to begin the dance. While it doesn't say "do me," it does say "how do you do!" It had been a long time since someone other that my wife gave me that smile. I looked behind me just to make sure she was really looking at me, but there was no younger, more confident single guy behind me. She was clearly smiling at me. I needed a strategy!
Flashback to my single days, I'd smile back. Ask a question or two. Compliment her eyes or outfit. Strike up a conversation. Smooth.
My married friends would have struck up a conversation as well. Not that they'd be trying to arrange a tryst, but as one friend put it, "You need to strike up the conversation to keep the hunting skills sharp." Apparently most of their friends are sure their wives will eventually release them back into the wild. I'm fairly certain that if mine ever ends my wife will be dropping me off at a kill shelter.
I, being very married, panicked. What do I do? Do I smile back? What if she starts to talk to me? What if my wife finds out I smiled at and talked to another woman? She'd know too. I wouldn't even do anything, and I'd be in trouble. What do I do?
How did I, a man who used to be smooth, turn into a 14 year old boy? What caused me to panic, and blush, and bury my face into a newspaper? The answer: I'm very married.
Over the course of the flight, I eventually had a conversation with this woman. She was chatty. Not in a flirting way, just chatty. Very chatty. She never stopped talking. Eventually I put on my Ipod. When that didn't work I pretended to sleep. Where’s those screaming babies when you need them?
I told her I was married, and showed her a picture of my wife. She told me that all of the good men were taken, and I assured her that not all of them were.
When the flight was over she shot me the same devilish smile she did when she sat down I looked at her and for a moment, was intrigued. Then I remembered my wife is a black belt and the house are cars are all in her name. Still though, my flight companion was alluring. Her complection, her height, her shape was similar to my wife's. No wonder I found her attractive.
See, very married..
Jim: Not sure if you wear a wedding ring. If you do, chances are she noticed. If she noticed, she was sure the encounter was safe. Maybe she was just keeping *her* skills sharp.
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