The Invisible Woman

The invisible woman. Perhaps you have seen her. She is the middle-aged mature woman that shops at her neighborhood supermarket, worships in church on Sundays, browses through a local branch of the library and buys her clothes at several big name department stores. She comes and goes from her home to work, visiting friends and waves at her neighbors. Sometimes she gets the chance to spend quality time with her close family.

Her clothes are well-chosen and smart. Her appearance and grooming is always immaculate and stylish. Intelligent conversation and a quick wit spice up her personality. This woman is no slacker. She's always had an excellent work ethic and lives up to the highest of moral and ethical standards.

Well...here is a woman that should command a very high visibility judging from the descriptive paragraphs above. One would automatically assume that this particular woman would lead a busy social life and be a hip member of her in-crowd. Let me tell you that the case involved here is totally the oppposite.

For all intents and purposes, this woman may as well be invisible. All of the previously mentioned accolades and observations are true and accurate. But, in spite of all of the above, she is invisible to the opposite sex. That's right; men. 

Some men that she encounters on a purely everyday situation such as in a supermarket, at the gas pump, in line at Starbucks, or in the waiting room of the mechanic while the oil is being changed in her car...will either avoid eye contact completely; or ignore her attempts at a simple smile and a friendly invitation to conversation.

She may be smiling just for the pure fun of it; because the weather is beautiful...or she feels special that day. She might want to strike up a conversation to pass the time. It's not an impossibility that she may be a people person and find it fun getting to know others. Every routine effort to be friendly is not...I repeat not an invitation to something else!

But...these days if any of the aforementioned scenarios take place, most men have either mumbled a few unintelligible words and made a hasty exit in the opposite direction, or ...(and this is one of her favorites) managed to bring up the fact that he is married in the second sentence of the conversation! Here's a for instance. She was outside her favorite supermarket one fine summer morning browsing and admiring the new array of bedding plants. There was a man nearby doing the same thing. He mentioned the marigolds to her first; noting how healthy and beautiful they were.

She agreed cheerfully (but not overly so...merely cordial) and threw in that she really liked the growth rate and the hardiness of marigolds. The next sentence out of his mouth was how his wife planted them every year. Where did that come from? Was she standing next to him? No. Was she waiting in the car watching his every move? No. He wanted to make it clear that he was off limits just in the off chance that she would come onto him.

Isn't that just sad...just pure pathetic? A woman cannot utter a complete sentence before a man thinks she's flirting! And please don't allow your eyes to wander in the direction of a man doing his own shopping. If you get too close to him, he'll bolt like a scared baby rabbit.

And her all time favorite is the conversation that a man will hold with who knows who to avoid the look or the slightest possibility that she may speak to him while standing in line anywhere. Suddenly, it is imperative that he makes a phone call that ends just as suddenly the moment he gets to the cashier to place his order! Then, he feels safe enough to tuck away his phone...place his order and busy himself with payment, etc. so he can make his escape as quick as possible.

What was once a perplexing enigma has now become a source of amusement for our sophisticated and savvy woman. She enjoys making a man feel uncomfortable in these situations, and feels that if he is unable to hold his own and not feel threatened by a person of her caliber, then that's his problem! No sweat off her nose. She smiles and laughs anyway and finds a great source of amusement in his dilemma.

So, our girl is slowly accepting of the fact that good, strong, confident men are a scarcity; especially in her age group. She is happy being who she is, living a good life and being her own person even if that life is independent of a special male relationship. Until he comes along (and he WILL come along one day) she is content in her own skin. Smiling, and taking care of business one day at a time and appreciating each and every one of the days she is blessed to live in.

Life...is good.

Down the Rabbit Hole

"There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about; and that is not being talked about"...Oscar Wilde

The sex had been fabulous and she was certain that both of them had experienced the ecstasy in equal shares. What had began as a calculated seduction had definitely ended up as an out- of- bounds sexual adventure where they had loosed all inhibitions and given themselves over to a night that saw its finale in the outrageous.

There had been no misconceptions of love or any other tender emotions. He was the dispenser and she was the receiver. At one point during the night their roles had reversed. She had pleasured him every bit as much as he did her, and each of them gave until there was nothing left. It had come to her as a wild and disconnected thought; but she remembered thinking how glad she was that she maintained her fit body by working out three times a week at her gym. While she had been aiming for a healthy long life span, she had no idea she would reap the other rewards that a fit and lithe body could provide. Although she was tired, her muscles did not ache and she was not sore from the rigorous sex. Truth was, she could have enjoyed a morning romp, but she did not want to wake Stanford and get him started all over again and the timing was not right.

There were two more remaining parts to her plan that had to be carried out. And she must keep moving and get them taken care of immediately...before she had time to think about what she had done and who she was doing it to. Of course Helena was her prime target, and initially; the thought of using her son to complete that revenge had been daunting but doable. Especially when she considered what was waiting for her at the end of this escapade.

As handsome, exciting and sexy as young Stanford Jr., is Claudette couldn't help but let herself imagine that she was with Griffin for a few moments. Both men were fine and sophisticated and dreamy hunks, but each in his own way. Griffin McCoy had that older, suave man of the world persona about him and he wore it well. His completely white head of hair and his confident manner; the way he wore his clothes...all of this only added to his sex appeal. Whereas Stanford was just beginning to realize his manliness, and that was a little endearing...but no! she could not nor would not dwell anything endearing! She still had work to do.

So she slipped out of bed, and gathered up her scattered clothing and shoes from around the room and quietly went into the huge bathroom to dress. How she would have loved to soak in this gorgeous bath tub! How she would have relished a slow and lazy 'morning after'; complete with breakfast in bed followed by more delicious loving. As she hurriedly redressed in last night's outfit (she must be gone before he wakes) she appeased herself with the thought that she'd get Griffin to bring her back here when they got together. Then, it would be all she'd want...and more.

She had promised to meet Honor downstairs in the coffee shop. The text message Honor had sent her very early this morning indicated that she was to be there at nine sharp. Honor would have the photos of her and Stanford Jr., in their sex acts. The tiny hidden camera was supposed to have captured at least an hour's worth of activity. So, being conscious of this fact was one of the stimuli that had kept her going. She had no way of knowing which sixty minutes of her star performance was to be immortalized on film.

Next, Honor would see to it that the film reached Helena Clayton; probably by the end of the day or thereabouts. When the room got cleaned by housekeeping, a certain house keeping specialist would be sure to neatly bundle up the bed linen from their love bed, remove the hidden camera to wrap up with the linens, deliver this bundle to the third person in the partnership and that person would then add the bundle to the envelope with the photos and the third present in this surprise package (which she would be passing along to Honor this morning) which was the pair of panties she had tucked inside her purse just for this purpose.

If that didn't send Helena over the edge...what would?

Claudette finished dressing and tiptoed across the room toward the door. Stanford moaned a little in his sleep but continued snoring softly. His arms and legs were sprawled out under the tangled sheets. He was totally out of it thanks to the small amount of sedative she had added to his night cap. It was simply a bit of insurance to make sure he didn't wake up before she had s chance to escape. She took a moment's pause to stand over him; looking at him and briefly thought that he looked so peaceful and so handsome in his sleep. Quickly giving herself a second to feel regret, she hoped that someday he would be able to forgive her, and that he would not have too bad a headache from the sedative. She kissed the tips of her fingers and lightly touched them to his lips.

It was too late for her now. She was too far gone; she was already down the rabbit hole and almost mad as a hatter.

She Works Hard for the Money

It had been intended to be the event of the year. Hours and hours had gone into the planning and many, many weeks had been filled with endless frustration and a seemingly never-ending task list of things to do. Then, there was the hard-to-deal with prim a-donas who were the dress designers, the flower designers, the caterers and the list went on and on...and on. All of them were always right and no one was ever wrong! And not necessarily at the end of that list were the people in the bridal party. Talk about selfish, egotistical and just downright bitchy!! Alexis had never met a more tiresome and irritating group of women.

But what was she to do? This was her first gig as a newly minted Wedding Planner and Developer. This new career move had been in the works for a couple of years. After she had graduated and received her degree, she then had to deal with the exhausting process of a new business start-up. She had worked closely with her son to create a workable and doable business plan, she had secured financing for the suite of offices she rented, hired her assistants, met with advertisers networked with other entrepreneurs and business people who would be invaluable as both promotional and operative support. Every single detail had been carefully executed and nine months ago she opened for business!

Almost immediately after she advertised her grand-opening she had booked her first wedding. Of course, there had been plenty of up front advertising, and she had hosted a couple of meet and greet cocktail parties with local women's organizations to help get her name out there, so it was no real surprise that she hit the ground running. Her confidence as an extremely capable and efficient designer/developer was in place. She had no qualms about getting busy with her first official job, and from start to finish it had been a true accomplishment.

The brand-new custom tailored wardrobe Alexis had secured was stunning. Each item of clothing had been designed and made just for her, and each item was a work of art. Now mind you; she didn't get couture fashions...that was out of the question, but she was fortunate enough to have been able to afford a basic business wardrobe consisting of mix and match separates. In addition, there was a selection outfits ranging from formal to business chic to be worn at the weddings she hosted and other social affairs as required.

Her good fortune was the result of being in the line of someone else's blessings. To be accurate, a very dear friend of hers had been the recipient of a huge financial windfall, and had been extremely generous with Alexis. And to top it all off, her new digs were the work of a fabulous new up and coming designer whose name was already on the lips of some pretty influential folks.

So this wedding...her debut project was set to take place in two days. She had been over her final-final-final check list with her assistant at least three times and could not find any action items that had not been completed. The plans were in place and all was ready with the exception of two minor details that were scheduled to be taken care of the next day, and Sunny was going to make that happen. She was on the books at her favorite spa for a full day of beauty and relaxation the next day and frankly she couldn't wait.

She logged off of her laptop, and turned off her iPad. No use of any electronic gadgetry except her phone was allowed for the rest of this night! Tonight she was entertaining a gentleman friend and she needed to change her clothes and make herself beautiful for her date. It had been a long time since they had seen each other and she was excited about being with him tonight. Although she didn't expect any physical intimacies beyond first base, it was still exciting to prepare for an evening with a handsome and viral member of the opposite sex; especially when you knew you'd have a good time.

Smiling to herself, and singing off-key a popular R&B song, off she went to her boudoir to do her thing.

And then...it happened...  

Rites of Passage

M

en are wonderful, magnificent and lovable creatures. They are our heroes, our hunter-gatherers, and our beasts of burden. They come in all shapes, sizes and personalities with individual physical traits and varying degrees of abilities and savvier fare.  We as women love our men. I love men. We love their sexiness, sensuality and all things provocative. And although they are much the same in these traits, they have a couple of others that may not be as endearing to us and it is an undeniable fact that they can do quite a bit of “jive talking” and “messin around”.

I was no stranger to the flirtatious overtures from other men. They would approach me anywhere; at work, while out shopping or pumping gas. They would act like they didn’t see my wedding band and diamond on my left hand, or they just chose to ignore it. Some would even comment on how they knew my husband was a happy man being married to all that, or that they knew I was sweet just because I smelt good, and occasionally someone would get really bold and say something like “baby I wanna treat you like a lollipop and lick you all over.” And then they would try to touch me…just trying to hold my hand or stroke my long hair…nothing to make me feel physically threatened.

The hopefully amorous dude would approach me walking with a “pimp” in his stride, while caressing and stroking his own beard or mustache, lean up against a wall or something and penetrating through an invisible wall of Canoe cologne, he would give me his best come-on spiel. One of my favorite jive talking lines was “Hey Brown Sugah…if you let me take you out not only will I rock yo world, but I will make you feel likes we was the only ones in it.” After having supposedly wooed me with this compliment, he would adjust his aviator sunglasses, hunch up his shoulders and give a hearty “sniff sniff’ while awaiting my inevitable swoon from being overcome with anticipation. If things got really exciting, one of his other women would come on the scene, and it was hilarious to watch him do some serious back pedaling!

 Now, please know that I misspelled some words for emphasis because I want you to picture how it went and how he sounded…you know …put you on the scene. Remember this was at a time when the men wore fancy jewelry (gold chains, bracelets, and rings) and very large hats. The 1970’s action movie “Superfly” starring Ron O’Neal inspired many a man to start wearing long colorful coats and sporting a walking cane just to add that little special touch to the image of a sharply dressed, jive talking, man of the world. I met a man just like this at a very vulnerable age and lost my tender heart to him.

My fascination with this man of the world nearly cost me my graduation during my senior year in high school. He was of course older, and not exactly an upstanding citizen, and I was your typical “goody two shoes” who was drawn to a “bad boy” like a magnet. Needless to say, I had a serious Love Jones for him and because I did everything I could do to get his attention, I subsequently got myself into a boatload of trouble on more than one occasion. But in my seventeen year old mind it was like totally worth it; sort of like going through days of torture for about four hours a week with him. Doesn’t that sound absolutely pathetic? Thankfully I can laugh about my escapades now, but at the time my heart was on my sleeve and I was wearing it for him.

I call these events in life rites of passage. There are some things we just have to experience first hand, and we have to have some things in our past to look back on and have a great big laugh over, and to share with our friends as we stroll mentally back in time. And actually, these events are terrific learning tools, for if we didn’t live through them and go through the pain and heartache, fall in and out of love a zillion times; what would we talk about in our golden years?

My Mother was a great parent in that she kept our clothes immaculate, kept a spotless house, and cooked delicious meals. She was a wonderful woman and I loved her dearly (still do), but she didn’t teach me about life. She was a product of her generation and at this time in my life when I needed to know about personal things, and about boys and about “feelings” I could not openly talk to her. Most of the stuff I needed to know as a young girl coming into womanhood I learned from other people. But she had her tender moments with me, and I have never felt unloved because she didn’t talk to me about “the birds and the bees”.

We all grow up in different ways and in different stages of development. Parenting methods have always been a mix of doing what we think is best, driven by our gut instincts, a lot of prayer, trial and error guesswork. So there were other things I learned from her that were valuable and important and they shaped me and gave me values that could have come from no one else but her. I still live by these values and will treasure her memory always.

Rites of passage and family traditions can instill and nurture us through our lives and keep us on the right paths. Without them we would be lost and with them we are so much the better for it.