Taking the Fall

Most of the guys that I've dated in the past, have for one reason or another, felt compelled to keep me separated entirely from their friends and other social circles. There were a number of circumstances under which this came to be the case, (boss's best friend, jealous ex-girlfriend, angry fraternity brothers, unconfronted homosexuality...) and each time, whatever the reason, it has always kind of bothered me. I have a tendency to remain on the "girlfriend" shelf until the necessary circumstances (albeit infrequently) present themselves @ which point I unwillingly play the couple-game for a minute until one of the two of us retires the whole mess due basically to a lack in functionality. Despite my irritation with the circumstances, it was a dance to which I'd grown accustom.

Then, very recently, I accidentally found myself interested in someone wonderful. He happens to be a close friend of a close friend, which precludes him from ignoring me socially, as we happen to find ourselves in similar circles. I have the sense, however, that even absent that connection, he would be more than happy to be seen with me in public. I, of course, find it all entirely perplexing.

It turns out, strangely, that in real life, when beginning to date someone new, you are forced also to begin dating their friends.

I had no idea.

On an impromptu semi-outing to a museum today, (the fourth day in a row that I've seen him, which you all know to be completely unheard of) I happened to find myself in the company of three of his girl friends and a guy who seemed attached to none of them. I smiled too much, in the way that you do when you're over compensating for not really liking girls to begin with, and received two fake smiles in return. Then the third girl. She looked up, looked me in the eye, paused, and gave me... the eyebrow.

Oh, you know it well....one raised, overly-plucked eyebrow in disgust, lips pursed in subtle irritation, while concealed behind what to most guys would be considered a polite smile. But you know as well as I do that this is no smile. This is the look of a jealous, angry girl. A girl who likes the boy introducing the two of you.

Fucking great, I think. This is what comes with dating the friends.

For about half an hour we all exchanged uncomfortable pleasantries and I knew the other two girls were well aware of the situation. Unfortunately, they're the friends. And I'm the girl I usually hate. As the minutes drug strangely along, suddenly it seemed she was on the verge of giving up and going home. She mentioned not enjoying the Moma (which is absurd) and thought she might want to do something else. Another eyebrow. I couldn't believe it! She was calling me out in code, trying to guilt me into taking the hint. "You're the outsider and the one, obviously, who should be leaving. NOT ME," the eyebrow said.

I smiled, cautiously, trying not to look too much like I cared, and told her I hoped we'd see her later. She couldn't get out the door any faster. Everyone else felt badly, and I sighed, because I knew it was somehow all my fault. I wondered if he knew how she felt. He had to, of course. Could it have been any more obvious? We talked, as much as two people can in a group of five in a museum in Manhattan, and I discovered that he not only knew about her feelings toward him, but that it had been discussed and evaluated too. I had to laugh. So he wasn't oblivious to the eyebrow after all.

After a preoccupied glance through one exhibit, the museum was about to close, and we made our way outside. I was feeling a little defeated, not by the competition, but by the practices of dating in general. Even in the first days, it all seems very complicated. Just as I was contemplating the unnecessary stresses of it all, my stupid boot caught a particularly slippery corner of floor and sent me crashing to the ground, Christmas present bags and all. The four of them looked away uncomfortably, not knowing what to say to the perfect stranger just embarrassed in their presence. We got to the street and I decided to cut my losses. I smiled some more, citing work to do at the office which was just around the corner. A lie just as transparent as eyebrow's. The boy smiled weakly, and I was on my way.

I couldn't decide which was more disturbing. The fall I took on the floor, or the one I'm taking with his friends. I've never known what was required in the dating-game where extracurricular circumstances, such as friends are concerned. But I'm not a big fan of falling into them. Eyebrows, it seems, just like slippery floors, can be dangerous when they catch you off guard.