Do you ever find yourself amused (and amazed) by peoples' white trash antics?
Sure you do.
Southern Fried White Trash takes a humorous look at the unbelievable mindset of the national subculture (and Southern specialty) we affectionately refer to as "white trash."

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Size does matter, apparently

I had coffee with a girlfriend this morning, and she and I spent a good hour catching up on what's been going on in our lives since around Thanksgiving. It's been that long since we've seen each other. We sat there at what's become our favorite little table, laughing and enjoying each other's company, and then she hit me with it. She and her husband of 19 years are divorcing. My heart just sank. Another one bites the dust.

I'm always sad to hear of a friend's marriage ending. Maybe it brings back memories of my own marriage's demise, the sadness and anger and loss. Or maybe, at my age, I have come to value what marriage means, what it says about two people - "Yes it's been tough, but we're still here." Fewer and fewer people can say that these days.

Anyway, as I sat and chatted with my friend, I was embarrassed to find that my eyes kept wandering to her chest area. Something was different. Not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable or awkward (or myself, for that matter), I forced my eyes to stay fixated on her eyes while she spoke. Still, I couldn't keep my mind from wandering. "What's up with that?" I kept thinking. "Did she, or didn't she?"

Finally, she put the question to rest. Yes, she said, she had gotten herself a boob job, kind of a a little pick-me-up (so to speak) to boost her confidence as she dove headfirst back into the dating pool. My head swam, and I felt a little nauseated. Oh, just the thought of dating after all these years. I couldn't believe she was thinking in those terms!

Still, all that aside, I had to ask about her new, um, chest. How does that help? If a guy you're dating is dating you simply because you're augmented, do you really want to be dating that guy anyway? I guess that's a question only a mother would ask. She, by the way, is a mom. To three great kids, who are not toddlers anymore. Had they noticed her blossoming sweaters, too? Hmmm.

I love my friend though, and I have to say that if I were in her shoes, I would be terrified. Her husband left her for his twelve- year -old secretary. I'm almost embarrassed to type that, it's so cliche, but it's true. He left my friend feeling old, undesirable, scared and lonely. If all it takes is a couple of DD's (I guess that would be four, wouldn't it?) to boost her self-confidence, she's a better woman than I am. Power to her.

I expect that, in the coming months, I will field many a phone call from my girlfriend. This guys is too immature, or that one is too shallow, or the other one really should just cut to the chase and date his mother. I've heard them all because frankly my dear, the game never changes and the grass is never greener.

On the way home, I said a quick prayer of thankfulness for my husband and for our marriage. Yes, I have been where she is now and no, it isn't fun. In fact, it's terrifying. Maybe I would have been better equipped to deal with it if I had had a little recreational surgery at the time, too, but I doubt it. So many women (and men too, I suppose) emerge from divorce jaded, angry and bitter. Saline and silicone aren't going to make that any better. It might fill up more weekends, but with what? More of the same? Haha no thanks.

I wish my friend well. I wish her strength and pride and peace, because she's going to need all those things and more. I hope she finds a man who deserves her company. Wouldn't it be ironic if he turns out to be a leg man?

1 comment:

  1. I doubt it. Ever meet a guy who wasn't a chest man?


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