Through the holidays that year we spent a lot of time together. Our time was spent with his friends, drinking beer and listening to music. They had countless stories of when they were younger, the trouble they got into, the people they knew. It was interesting to see a group of friends together who have known each other nearly their whole lives. I was an appendage, or at least that was how it felt. I was so much younger than the group I couldn’t really relate to most of their experiences. I also was a “good girl”, didn’t really get in much trouble in high school or college. I limited myself to one night out per week during college to avoid distraction. The goal was a degree and a future, not partying and hangovers.
Interactions with this group and their wives was strained for me to say the least. There were only 2 people in the entire group of over 20 that had attended any form of college. They were working class, hard drinkers, everyone had a nickname even some of the girls. This would become a bigger issue as time went. I could however, related to the guys. Having grown up on a farm with an older brother who had a drag car, I was able to talk mechanical stuff with some intelligence. I had my favorite guys whom would always go out of their way to talk to me, make me feel at home and draw me into the crowd. This was another issue as time went on. It didn’t sit very well with most of the wives.
At one particular party both situations began to collide. Everyone was in the basement of one couples home hanging by the wood stove, drinking beer, eating. I went upstairs to use the bathroom. As I reached the top of the steps, I could hear some of the wives talking about me in the kitchen. Now, I have pretty thick skin but just like anyone else, I don’t like feeling like an outsider. As I opened the door and rounded the corner, I chose to take the high road and pretend I didn’t hear them. I smiled and asked where the bathroom was, went on my way never acknowledging what they said. I decided I would revel in the fact that their spouses were more interested in talking to me than talking to them.
The mood had changed upon my return to the basement. Something must have been said by my future spouse to these guys in some suggestive manner. Now the conversation turned more…adult. Some innuendo talk about girls they use to date, etc. Again, I grew up with an older brother, who didn’t talk like this but his friends sometimes did. So I ignored it and played along, not sounding offended or telling them I didn’t want to hear this. As I turned around a picture was circulated of a group of guys mooning the camera. Not just top of the cheeks mooning, full moon with extra parts visible between the legs. One of the guys asked in front of everyone if I could identify my future husband from the photo. They were all laughing, drunk, clearly trying to embarrass me. I decided if I didn’t do something drastic, I would forever be the butt of jokes with this crowd. So, with confidence, I said “I could identify that sack anywhere”, pointing to the guy in the middle of the photo. And that solidified the guys feeling I was ok and the wives feeling I was definitely a threat of some kind.