Etiquette Question

On Friday, i met Jackson for coffee.

What is the protocol for meeting with the man who is the ex-husband of the woman for whom your husband left you?  The woman who left him for your (now) ex-husband? Do you shake hands?  How does the conversation start?  Will the outcome be what we want? Is the meeting just an exercise in pricking open a barely healing wound?  Will there be copious bleeding?  Will i be sorry?  Will he be sorry?  Who THE FUCK knows?  Miss Manners never wrote about how to deal with this situation.

We talked for an hour and a half.  This is a man that i do not really know, but with whom i share an incredibly intimate experience.  I learned a lot about what happened.  Details of the extensive lying and cheating.  Things i had only suspected.  About how little regard either of the two cheaters had for past attachments, and for either of us.

I like knowing the truth, even if it hurts.

Meanwhile, my ex and Jackson's ex are off on their extensive, expensive honeymoon.  I wish them hell.

I'm glad i went.  And Jackson sent me a very nice email, thanking me for the meeting and saying that it had been helpful for him.  I will not likely see him again, but it's nice to know he's out there.

So much sadness and hurt because of two selfish, reckless people.

Unbelievable

Last Friday night, the night before my ex-husband got married to the woman he left me for, i went to a concert with a friend.  Before the concert, we went to the Wild Ginger in Seattle for dinner.  No reservations.  Friday night.  We ended up sandwiched in at the bar.

Normally i would never do such a thing, but because we were practically thigh to thigh, i said something to the people sitting next to us.  You know, something like, "That drink looks good, what's in it?"

We continued chatting sporadically through the meal.  They were going to the same concert.  I offered my opinion on the house Manhattan (delicious!).  At the end of the meal, we were presented with a bill, which my friend and i paid.  Then we were presented with a second bill.  WTF? Turns out that the bar dude, in all the confusion, had given us the bill of the people we had been chatting with.

Hilarity ensued. They "Thanked" us for paying their bill, since their bill was more expensive.   While the bill issue was being sorted out, I made a comment that i had wanted to go hiking that day, but it had been too rainy.  Then i said "I am hoping for a plague of locusts tomorrow because my ex-husband is getting married."  (I had had two of the house Manhattans (delicious!).)

The man looks and me and says "Meno?"  I gaped at him.  He says "I am (the ex-husband's soon to be new wife)'s ex-husband."

"Jackson?"  i say.  I hadn't recognized him.

OMG!

Of all the gin joints in all the towns......  What are the chances?

We talked some more after that, much more seriously,  and he gave me his contact information.

I don't believe in karma, or fate, but this might change my mind.

It will never happen

I want an apology.

I want you to apologize for lying to me, after promising several times that you would NEVER lie to me again, after being caught lying.

I want you to apologize for having sex with me, after having sex with someone else, such that i had to get tested for STDs.

I want you to apologize for that vacation in Hawaii, where you were lying the whole time, and planning your escape.  You retroactively ruined that vacation for both me and Em. where i had thought we had a good time.

I want you to apologize for lying to me, even when you were leaving.I don't want you to apologize for leaving, as i know you think you have found your Soul Mate, but for the way you left, making it easy for you, and the hardest for me.  You owed me more than that.

You are a coward.

Complete Misunderstanding

When I was much younger I used to be “hot” sexually speaking, tall, long hair, pretty face, thin.  I know that now, I didn’t know it then.  I am now too old to be “hot”. Which, as a natural product of time, is fine with me.

But, as a “hot”, but naïve young woman, people, men, used to yell at me on the street.  From “Hey baby!” to “Wanna fuck?”

I learned, quite quickly, to completely ignore these assaults (And I do mean assaults), pretending to be oblivious. 

Once, a friend of mine, a gay man who lived in the same apartment complex as me, and also worked with me, yelled at me on the street.  And I, not knowing that this was someone I knew who was being playful, ignored him.

When he caught up with me, he asked me why I was so “stuck up”.

Did he not understand that being yelled at on the street does not feel like a compliment? You would think he would have known better.

This was in the early 80s, does that make a difference?