Put The Ring In His Nose

A friend is a person who knows
you, but likes you anyway.

A friend knows what you're
thinking, so you don't have to say it.

And a friend knows you'll understand
why he didn't invite you to his wedding.

Our meeting accidental, our conversation fantastic, we parted aware
we'd encountered someone we would know next year, and the year after.

It was not romance, it was not poignant. It was meeting someone whose
facial expressions, pauses and glances said as much as 2000 words.

We never got into "Me 101". What we learned about each other came obliquely.

I'd of thought he was a professional or in some managerial position.
I didn't realise he had a low level job at an embassy.

If he had been born to someone who cared, who would have invested
a few dollars in him, he'd of breezed through university.

But he was born to parents who couldn't be bothered, so grew up catch
as catch can, and he had made himself who he was.

He was in his late thirties, had been married and divorced.

I'd have thought he'd be a little more careful. But I didn't appreciate raw
economic need.

I didn't know how he had lived, what he wanted, and that he would fall into a situation position in which he saw a chance to just once have it all...
.that is if all was in a negotiable currency.

I first saw her by the refreshment table, didn't think much of her. She was a blob.
There was nothing attractive about her, not her clothes, her presentation, her appearance.

I was speaking with a few of my other friends when I saw him speak to her. She responded with a few words.

I had thought she was simply a person we bring from time to time, co-workers, relatives, someone we are going to meet with later, so take them as baggage to this meeting.

He put off no attraction to her so I didn't think much of it. After all, you can tell when people are connected; how they look at each other, body language, and I can read that pretty well.

He put off no vibe that this woman meant anything to him. So of course I'd think she was just some btw character he'd brought along.

I had a life, very busy, pressured, with breaks in which I could do nothing. I had a career which went as far or as near as I let it. My life was never based on money.

I was the kind of person who would skip lunch and have a small dinner and not feel hungry. I was the kind of person who could wear something until it was ready for the garbage.

There were times I could spend the $$ without blinking an eye, and my credit card had enough value I could buy a car on it. But If I made $X this week I would spend no more than 1/2X for that was how I was.

There are others who aren't as lucky. Their financial condition controls everything. That spending a life counting pennies and misering gas is how they live.

I never looked at a man's bank book before I assessed his character. I had friends who were very rich, and others who were poor, and my friendship had nothing to do with whether they could buy me a Rolex or couldn't afford a bus fare.

I had never been in a situation in which I would go out with the guy in the Benz and need him to pay my rent.

This woman he had brought had money, and no looks.

Not face, not body, not hair, there was nothing attractive about her physically.
To add to this, she had the personality of a fascist.

She did not speak to or with you, she made pronouncements. Her views were culminations. Others were not allowed to own differing opinions.

But she had money.

Why and how he got involved is obvious. She had money. And before I could say 'Hey!' she was pregnant.

We were driving in Jack's car and deep in conversation, when out of nowhere he began a diatribe about how much he disliked the concept of marriage.

I knew she was demanding a ring.

I knew he was doomed. Rich woman, pregnant, wants to get married; did he have a choice?

In a week she had taken him home to meet her family. I imagine seeing the splendor he would never have without her, being the incentive.

I'd stopped by our usual hang out for coffee.

Linny and I talked aimlessly and by
the way, she mentioned the wedding
two days ago.

I didn't say anything.

I'd spoken to him that morning, he
hadn't said a word about a wedding.

In fact I'd spoken to him on Wednesday... the day of the ceremony. He hadn't even hinted what he intended to do that evening.

I went outside, lit a cigarette and didn't feel anything. Not hurt, not angry, not insulted. Nothing.

I explored my non feeling as if were a fossil I'd found under the tree.

Interestingly, I saw him and his wife an hour later.
We greeted, little amenities as always. I said nothing to him or her about the wedding. They didn't say anything either.

I suppose that's why we're friends.

He knew if I had come to his wedding, I could help but think, 'put the ring in his nose".

He didn't need me to be there and see his humiliation.

He looked at me, and I knew it, and looked back and nodded, it was alright.