So I went to a party over the weekend at a neighbor’s house down the street. I sat in the backyard for the first half of the evening with a friend, sipping drinks and enjoying the cool breeze. The hubs was with me for the first hour or so, but for the part of the story in question he was at home getting beauty sleep since he’s ambitious and does things on weekends like triathlons. Weirdo.

Anyway, at some point I wandered inside to the host’s dining room – I honestly can’t recall why – and walked up on two women sitting there. One was a little slumped over, clearly had had too much to drink. The other woman seemed totally fine.

The first thing I noticed about the sober one was she was pretty. Not the giant, silicone cans – too much makeup – Beverly Hills type, but the tall – thin – naturally beautiful type. The kind of woman I expect to a) be uppity and b) ignore my presence. But, she surprised me by immediately reaching out a hand to introduce herself. She had a firm handshake, in case you’re wondering, which is a huge deal to me. I hate limp willie handshakes. Anyway, she was chatty and warm, asked about my kids, how I knew the host, etc. etc.  As I was leaving the room, I heard her murmur, “She’s so sweet,” referring to me. Hmm. I like this gal.

Later in the evening I ran into her again in the kitchen. She was excited to see me and greeted me with an enthusiastic, “Hiii!” We yammered about this-and-that, about how her dress was from Target, (she’s frugal and down-to-earth. love her!) when she began interjecting things like, “you’re so beautiful,” and “you’re so pretty.” I’m not one to take compliments well, so I blushed and stammered, but at the same time I’m thinking, this chic is my new BFF! I’m already envisioning how great it would be to take her shopping:

ME: How does this outfit look?

BFF: It’s perfect. You’re beautiful. You look like Kate-Frickin-Moss in everything.

ME: Should I get bangs?

BFF: No, you’re perfect the way your are. But if you do you would rock them cuz you’re stunning no matter what.

ME: You’re the bestest bestie evah!

BFF: No YOU are!

ME: No YOU are!

(ahem) That wasn’t pretty. Look away.

She then introduced me to her husband who was planted on a barstool. He was very nice and also had a firm handshake. He reached over saying I had something on my face only to gently swipe the side of my nose. We laughed. I got the joke. He was poking fun at the stud in my nose. It was a little chummy that he TOUCHED MY FACE and I’d known him all of 7 seconds, but his wife was showering me with flattery so I let it slide. I’m shallow cool like that.

She complimented my top, she oozed over my children, saying how handsome they were and they must get their looks from mommy…..

and then IT happened.

New BFF to her husband: “Honey, isn’t she beautiful?”  “Isn’t she cute?”  “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Whoa. *takes new BFF off speed dial* Why is she saying this stuff to her husband? Why is she asking HIM?

This. Just. Got. Awkward.

I mean, what’s he supposed to say? You don’t ask your husband if another woman is pretty in front of said woman……unless….unless….

No. It couldn’t be. That’s preposterous. But what if it’s not? Holy Shit Balls. Are they into Menages? My mind instantly went to the Seinfeld episode where Jerry’s girlfriend calls his bluff and wants to have a 3-way with him and her friend, but he can’t bring him self to do it. It’s hilarious, but now I’m starting to relate to it on a whole new level. One I do not appreciate. I glanced at the husband. He was smiling at me all, cat-that-ate-the-girl-from-the-party.

So this morning when we woke up in bed, they were all, that was HOT.

KIDDING. But if you’re into that sort of thing and you just got a visual, you’re welcome.

I understand I could be way off base. She could be totally secure with herself, and obviously her marriage, and was being genuinely sweet. Maybe I’m just not used to that behavior so I read it wrong. Perhaps she had had more to drink that I thought. Maybe she just found me irresistibly adorable. I mean, who doesn’t? Probably.

Or….what if my gut was right? What if they sought me out like some sort of prey, and I was on the menu? Sweat beaded my forehead as I began to panic. What if they corner me in the bathroom? What do I do? I mean, I can’t go through with it, but I did really want to go shopping with her….holy orgy, Batman….

….what do I do?…..

….how do I get out of this?…..

SALVATION

in the form of a tired 9yo who was ready to go home. YES, SWEET BABY JESUS, MOMMY WILL TAKE YOU HOME RIGHT NOW. And thank you, precious child, for ending my night and thus a very uncomfortable situation to explain to your father.

I waved bye to my EX-BFF, thanked the hosts for their lovely party-con-love-triangle, and went home.

So now I ask YOU: Was that strange behavior or am I being a total nut-case? I’m soooo looking forward to your comments!

Editors note: I was going to title this post, I Think She Wants My Boobies, because the last few days a lot of attention has gone to balls via my last post, and I’m nothing if not fair. But then I was like, what if that looks like I’m trying too hard to put stuff like boobs and balls in my titles? And if I were, is that so bad? Anyway, I obviously ended up going with another title, but I want the record to show that I was even steven in my representation of all things round and hangy. Thank you.