In this age of social networking, mommarazzi, and general information overload, when is too much, too much? With over sharing at an all time high, it makes you wonder if privacy exists anymore. Do some of us over share to show that we have nothing to hide or out of general habit? I am reminded of a girls night out that ended with an interesting twist.
One night about three years ago, myself and two girlfriends decided to go to a local night spot in town to catch up and dance. I walked in with my friends Liza and Lana in tow. The pub was moderately busy as it was still on the early side. When my friend, Liza, walked in behind me, a woman sitting in booth facing us stopped talking, turned ghost white, and became flustered. Lana and I had no idea what was going on. The woman and the gentleman she was with bolted towards the door right as we were seated at the bar. As it turns out, Liza knew the woman from her children's private school. They carpooled each others children to school. The woman's husband was a professor at a nearby university. My friends and I talked and thought nothing of the sudden reaction. About five minutes later, the woman re-emerged having gathered some of her composure. She spoke to Liza and introduced herself to Lana and I. She launched into a story of how the man we saw her with was her brother's friend. She couldn't stress enough that both her brother and the man we'd just seen her with were both gay. Both Lana and I exchanged amused glances. My first thought was, "If this gentleman is gay, so what?" My next thought was, "Why was your wedding ring off if this is true?" I'm not a body language expert but I know what it looks like when two people are interested in each other. When I walked into the bar she was motioning gracefully with her hands, leaning close and touching his arm (hence me noticing the missing ring). She was cramming the unwanted info down our throats while we tried to act normally. Instead of her leaving the situation alone, she pulled up a bar stool and started giving up more details about her "brother's friend". We just let the situation roll. Liza changed the subject, I think to keep her from digging herself in deeper.
We all talked more as the pub started to fill up with patrons. A guy at a neighboring table came over and offered the four of us tequila shots. Lana and I declined on the basis that we had to work early the next morning. Liza doesn't drink and had to carpool her children as well as this woman's. This apparently freed up the woman to not only do the offered shot but three more after it. The three of us looked on and like Nick Caraway decided to reserve our judgements until the end (or at the very least until we got in the car).
My friends and I danced to a few songs and eventually called it a night. The three of us said goodbye to the woman and went on our way. We waited until the pub's door was firmly closed behind us before unravelling the badly woven tapestry before us.
"There is no way that was her brother's friend," Lana stated firmly.
"Of Course not. Even if it was, we don't know her. She doesn't have to explain herself," I replied.
"I think the explanation was more for me," Liza smiled. "It isn't my business though, so there was no need for her to feel uncomfortable."
Lana and I nodded. Liza isn't the meddling type, but another "carpool mom" might have been. The thing that I took from this situation is less is definitely more. People can and will assume what ever they want. That doesn't mean that you have to give them the confession.
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