Have you ever noticed when you are at your most vulnerable, someone invariably ends up asking you a question that sends you into a tailspin.
A total tailspin, complete with the immediate urge to raid the pantry for any/all chocolate, plop yourself onto the couch wearing your favorite oversized stained sweats and enjoy a fine box of Gallo rosé and handfuls of Cookie Crisp (hey, don’t judge: it was the ONLY chocolate in the pantry).
This has happened to me so many times post-divorce, I can’t even count them all (the inappropriate questions … not the vivid image painted above. I only drink Clos du Bois merlot, after all).
So the most inappropriate question of them all: Is she hot?
There is a natural curiosity inherent to all people, I have decided. They want The Reason. They want to close the loop in their minds inspired by the unbelievable idea that their awesome, witty, talented, virtuous, second-only-to-Jennifer Aniston friend had possibly become suddenly single.
So to them, The Reason is this: She must be hot.
OK, friends and readers, follow along with this line of reasoning: I, the aforementioned awesome, witty, talented, virtuous, second-only-to-Jennifer-Aniston friend, do not want to think about the fact that any “she” that inspired the dissolution of my marriage could be in any way, shape or form, “hot.”
And in my specific case, “she” was truly anything but “hot,” which resulted in quite the head-scratching and an amazing amount of loops being uncomfortably left wide-ass open.
There was a fabulous benefit to the fact that my ex and his ex-ex (they were high school sweethearts before he married me) created a website to celebrate their upcoming sacred nuptials only eight months after my divorce. And no, it wasn’t that our mutual friends that I had inherited in the divorce told me ALL about it. It wasn’t even the poetic realization that he was using the SAME “Best Man” that stood up for my ex at our wedding (isn’t that a direct violation of the Best Man Code?).
The benefit: pictures.
Pictures of him and her, together. Pictures of her, alone. Pictures of them with MY children. Pictures, pictures, pictures.
As if the images in my head weren’t haunting enough.
But I found something truly cathartic in the pictures. Because whenever someone would ask, “Is she hot?” (and trust me, it happens more than you can ever imagine), I didn’t have to rely on the admittedly harsh, seemingly-self-affirming-but-more-true-than-not response that I had developed referencing a saggy stick figure, beak-like nose, the desperate need for orthodontics and wrinkly, blotchy, old-looking skin. (Hey, I warned ya it was harsh, and I make no apologies for assessments made in my fragile, freshly dumped state…)
Nope, I got to hear first-hand from them, the askers of said inappropriate question. I got to see the looks — rather, the cringes — that directly resulted from browsing the pix of the newly — rather, once again newly — happy couple.
My favorite response (and you know who you are, dear friend of mine): “Oh my God. She looks like Marilyn Manson!” (followed by favorite friend performing a quick Google search of “Marilyn Manson,” printing the image and then inviting an entire group of passersby to perform an informal, side-by-side comparison, resulting in more thumbs-up than downs. Best. Moment. Ever.)
So there you have it: If you don’t want to inspire a just-dumped friend to imbibe copious glasses of wine from a box, please refrain from asking “Is she hot?”
And hey, thanks to this blog post, I just realized there is one way in which I’m definitely not second-only-to-Jennifer-Aniston. Imagine her dread when anyone asked “Is she hot?” in her post-breakup days. And trust me, ask they did … even of Jennifer Aniston.
Because even friends of celebrities feel the need to close that gaping, wide-ass open loop.
So … who wants to join me in sharing an incredibly inappropriate question you’re been asked? If you share, you just may find a virtual box of Cookie Crisp (or Gallo rosé) in your e-mailbox … ;)
UPDATE: Little did I know that when I published this post, the bat-shit crazy fun was only just beginning…
Click here to read A Blog for a Blog, documenting how my blog was the word-for-word “inspiration” for a blog penned by the OW in my marriage.
Click here to read Most Likely to Succeed…at Divorce?!?! which documents my personal rise to #1 Shit Divorce EVER (as determined by the geniuses at Google).
Click here to read Oh I’m Sorry, Am I Blogging Too Loudly? to read about how my ex took me to court — to stop my blog (First Amendment be damned, apparently…)
And click here to read I Spy with My Little Eye…A Blog Stalker?!?! to read about how I single-handedly caught my blog stalker red handed — and it turned out to be my ex’s new wife (As in, the significant other of the man suing me to stop the very blog she was commenting on. Six times. Under six different identities. Nice…)
One more link to share: If you want to see how this story all began — How My Marriage Ended with a Brick — click here. Good times!
And by the way: Thank YOU for stopping by. Please introduce yourself in the comments — I’d love to hear your story, too!