It happened again tonight.
At a perfectly lovely Fourth of July party at the country club. Just thirty minutes in, a woman who I hadn’t seen in ages, strolled over to me, cheerfully greeted me, and then started telling me that she knows all about my daughter Natasha’s doings because she plays golf with…Cruella.
My ex husband’s third wife.
Ugh.
Like I wanted to know that?
“Look, Christine,” I said wearily. “I have no interest in who you play golf with. Why would you think I’d want to know this? Don’t tell me.”
She seemed startled. I walked away disgusted and fed up.
It’s four hours later and I am still fuming. The fireworks going off outside my window are nothing to the ones going off inside my skull.
And I am writing this on behalf of ALL divorced people everywhere. Take a good look around you. Even if you’re lucky enough to count yourself in the “happily married only once” group, chances are you know someone- friend, brother, sister, father, mother, child- who can not say the same thing.
I hereby, out of necessity, appoint myself spokesmodel for all divorced people everywhere. It has to be said.
NOW HEAR THIS: WE DO NOT WANT YOU TO TELL US WHEN, WHERE, HOW OR WHY YOU LAST SAW OUR EX SPOUSE- OR THEIR CURRENT MATE. EVER. NO EXCEPTIONS.
We don’t want to hear that you “just bumped into him in Naples” or “saw him walking down Michigan Avenue” or “had dinner with him just last week” or “ran into her at the club” or “played golf with her on Hilton Head last summer” or “said hello to him in the dining room” or any other damn thing.
I’m sick of it. And I know that other people in the same boat feel the exact same way.
Why do people do this? Why do they feel the need to bring me up to speed on someone whose whereabouts and activities do not interest me in the least? In fact, knowing them does me no good at all.
Are they that f-ing stupid? Tone deaf? Socially backward? Mean? Vicious? Silly? All of the above?
Most of the time, this social gaffe is perpetrated by the ignoramuses who have never been through the hell of a divorce court themselves. Usually they’ve only been married once.
But not always. Sometimes insensitive and unfeeling people who have actually been through it- or a version of it- will actually ask me “if I’ve seen Bill lately?”
Yeah, I have.
In my nightmares.
No joke.
And while I’m about it, let me add that the pain and suffering that I- and my kids- go through is not all in the past.
We’re left with the ramifications of his actions every day.
My children constantly have to deal with the heartbreaking sadness that occurs when outright warfare is declared between your mother and your father.
They have to chose which parent to spend Christmas with. They’ve had to negotiate the land mine of weddings and birthdays and holidays- and a million more other bitter circumstances on an on-going basis.
For the rest of their lives.
I can not tell you how many times I have been suckered into a conversation with a smiling “friend,” who then somehow feels the need to tell me that they “just saw Bill at Joe’s the other night.”
Enough. I’ve had it.
If I wanted to know what he was doing today, I would have put up with his high jinks for twenty more years. But I didn’t.
And now, on this Fourth of July, eighteen YEARS after the fact, I want the freedom to enjoy the airspace around me. Free from the pollution of the memories and the betrayals and the pain that your casual mention of his name invokes.
Can’t you think of anything else to say to me?
Tell me why do you do this?
Better yet, don’t tell me.
AMEN!
Yep.
…..and I double down “AMEN”!!
You bet. No cute reply intended.
Not sure why people feel the need to constantly dig up their “friends” post-marital bones. But I think you should consider it open season to bring up the most embarrassing or painful memory you can recall about them. Do that once or twice and even a real idiot should get the point.
Good safety tip, Egon. And glad you’re back stateside-and uneaten as shark sushi.
Anger, hurt, with a little snark thrown in. Thanks Ellen.
Glad you liked the recipe. Mitch. And query: Why is that people who NEVER told me his whereabouts when we were married, are so quick to fill me in now? What’s up with that paradox? Oh, well. Just rhetorical. Enjoy your Sunday. And thanks.
Now that’s what I call venting. You go girl. Allan
Nice! The Klein Boys to the rescue! Thanks, pard.
A cop pulled me over the other day and said, “Hey mister, your wife fell out of the car about two blocks back”.
I said, “Thank G-d. I thought I was going deaf”!
Ellen,
Love your writing and what a kick I get reading it…………Even if it’s an unpleasant subject.
Thanks for the laugh this morning, Bernie. I could use it.
I cannot relate personally this Sunday morning. Like in everything, nothing can be done about insensitive or simply stupid people. I do feel the hurt of others when I ever hear either the talk or the gossip. I wish I knew of something to say or a pill to take to make the hurt go away.
Scott
You’re a doll, Scott. Yes, this is painful. And I’ve put up with it and smiled for eighteen years because you never want the bastards to get you down- or know they’re getting to you. But on behalf of many of my fellow sufferers (I am not the only person who goes through this) I decided that Friday night was the straw that broke this blogger’s back. Thanks for your compassion.
I’m innocent!!! Friday’s fireworks were the best in my decades of being at the club. Good seeing you.
Herbie
Herbie, you are not the offender. But you do know so many that are! Thanks, my friend. As always.
There are circumstances that require we have contact with ex-spouses. Child rearing, grandkids. But here’s my tale of revenge:
I am a travel agent. One day, a year after our divorce was final, my ex called me at work: “Book me two tickets to London,” he says. I assume he’s taking one of our kids. I ask him who is going. “Me and Lusha,” he says. Grammar was not one of his strong suits. Ever professional, I ask him to spell her name and he spells his last name, saying “we’re getting married, it’s our honeymoon.” I told him I would call back.
The co-owner of the agency where I worked was a prim little Swiss woman. She sat with me while I wept angry tears. When I calmed down, she told me I had two options. I could tell him ” F*** you! book your own damn tickets” and let someone else earn commission, or I could book his trip, turn it into a nightmare, and earn money.
I called him back. Convinced him a cruise was a better choice. Knew how cheap he was, and that he would only pay for an inside cabin. I was obligated to tell him that the berths were separate. I felt no obligation to tell him they were only an upper and lower berth. Bunk beds. I worked with the cruise line reservation agent for ages finding the right cabin. For a welcome aboard gift, we arranged a can of Tab, and Hostess cupcakes.
Sometimes, revenge IS sweet.
This comment has it all. Laughter, tears, and a punchline. My hat is off to you. This was so -the only word for it is – AWESOME. Thank you. And bless you, Judith.
I think there are two types of people who do this: those who say the first thing that comes to their minds and generally are clueless and others who do it to turn the knife, knowing exactly what they are doing. What percentage would you assign to each (as I luckily have no experience in being a recipient)?
Thanks for this explanation. I seriously have been looking for any reason and I think you’re right. Who’s who? That’s another story. Either way- clueless or malicious, who needs ’em?
I should mention, I would NEVER do that to any other client. But that time, it was fun.
Of course not. I have no doubt that you are the epitome of efficiency and service.
judith’s comment/action is the best….almost as clever as you!
i think the people making these comments fit into two categories….those that are mean-spirited and those that have faulty filtering skills.
the filter-challenged see “you” and have some recent experience of something involving your extended life and without a pause, say it. i don’t feel they are trying to be hurtful.
those that are the evil- doers love to stir up the pot and just feel happiest when they have caused some turmoil, hurt some feelings and think they have pushed “you” down. those are not worthy of your friendship and should truly be BANISHED !!!!
love, betsy
Great insight, my dear friend. I think you’re really onto something here. The problem for me remains to try and decipher who the players are. Either way, though, like I told Fred Nachman, dumb or evil, I’m out of there. But not before I get their email address. I am going to send them THIS post before I say “adios.” Thanks, Betsy. See you guys soon.
Ellen,
Out of respect for your privacy and pain, I have not posted today. However, after reading the many interesting, compassionate, and supportive comments from your circle of friends, I am emboldened to share this joke, cut and pasted verbatim from the internet (with no further editing on my part):
After 37 years of marriage, Jake dumped his wife for his Young secretary.
His new girlfriend demanded that they live in Jake and Edith’s multi-million dollar home and since the man’s lawyers were a little better he prevailed.
He gave Edith his now ex-wife just 3 days to move out. She spent the 1st day packing her belongings into boxes crates and suitcases.
On the 2nd day she had the movers come and collect her things.
On the 3rd day she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candlelight put on some soft background music and feasted on a pound of shrimp a jar of caviar and a bottle of Chardonnay.
When she had finished she went into each and every room and stuffed half-eaten shrimp shells dipped in caviar into the hollow of all of the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen and left.
When the husband returned with his new girlfriend all was bliss for the first few days.
Then slowly the house began to smell. They tried everything cleaning mopping and airing the place out. Vents were checked for dead rodents and carpets were cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere.
Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters during which they had to move out for a few days and in the end they even replaced the expensive wool carpeting.
NOTHING WORKED.
People stopped coming over to visit. Repairman refused to work in the house.
The Maid quit.
Finally they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move.
A month later even through they had cut their price in half they could not find a buyer for their stinky house.
Word got out and eventually even the local realtors refused to return their calls. Finally they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.
The ex-wife called the man and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back.
Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was he agreed on a price that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day. She agreed and within the hour his lawyers delivered the paperwork.
A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home.
INCLUDING THE CURTAIN RODS.
Thanks, Henny Youngman. You have provided some more comic relief and I appreciate it. Now get back to work on our puzzles. You’ve had the weekend off.