National Geographic Presents...

Recently, Brian and I had a discussion about how a relationship is a constant work-in-progress, and how we expect this year leading up to our nuptials to be an important one for setting boundaries, talking about areas for improvement, and things we want for the future. We've known each other for two years, but have only been dating for one; admittedly, there is plenty of uncharted territory left for Brian and I to discover, and no one's been pretending there isn't. I had, however, not predicted the experience we had this week, as a couple.

My MOH, Heather, and I, stopped at a cafe to chat. Brian joined us a little later, and before he got his drink, he pointed to a woman near the counter. He murmured to me, 'That's the woman from work.' For a few weeks now, Bri has been getting some unsolicited attention from a repeat customer at work; we shall call her Andromeda. (We shall call her this because her given name is just as trendy and ridiculous.) Bri has told me a few times about this woman, how she has a habit of hanging around him and pays no heed to his pointed comments about being engaged to a lovely girl. He was clearly uncomfortable and perplexed at Andromeda's inability to take a hint, and I sympathized with him on the topic of dense people. I was, of course, a little intrigued: what she was like, this woman who takes such an interest in my sweet guy? So when  Brian pointed her out, I looked over, curiously. I won't bother describing her, because when you hear the rest of the story, you'll understand why any description I may offer will sound absolutely biased and utterly catty. I'm going to attempt to share this story with you without getting way too nasty.

Anyway, Brian introduced Heather and I to the woman after a brief hello, and I was on my best behaviour; she ignored Heather completely, stared me in the eyes unblinkingly, and said, "Ohh, you're very pretty." With that simple statement and her intense stare, she drew a line in the proverbial sand and for a brief moment, I was taken aback. Her words, her eyes, the way she leaned into my space and just stared...she might as well have just reached out, started stroking Brian's chest, and said, "Ah-ha-ha-ha, here I was worrying about my competition, all for nothing!"

I haven't been in a position like this for quite a long time. I forgot that primal, animalistic instinct that kicks in, the one that growls up out of your belly like an angry tiger. I felt heat rise to my face--not the usual blush of anger or embarrassment, but rather a heat that went straight to my eyes and shot out of them like lasers, vainly attempting to fry this woman's head.

To this she-lion, in response to her compliment, I said, "Thank you," and as far as the casual observer would notice, I seemed like my usual calm self. Well, to the casual male observer, I suppose, because while Brian continued to smile and chatter away about something or other, Heather began looking from my face to Andromeda's with a wide-eyed foreboding, All that was missing was the music from 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly' piping through the room.

I tore my eyes away, however, and the tension seemed to recede a little. I tried really hard to focus on Heather, who was rolling her eyes and mouth reassurances that this creature was nothing to worry about. I started to shake off the weird vibe, but I couldn't entirely put the tiger back in its cage.

Brian sat down with Heather and I, sitting beside me and facing into the rest of the cafe. Heather had her back to the world as I resumed our conversation, detailing some new idea I'd had for the big wedding day. I was happily sharing my new idea with both Heather and Brian when...I realized I only had the attention of my maid of honor. Brian's eyes were affixed elsewhere, and his attention clearly went with it. I followed his stare to see Andromeda sitting only one table away, clearly making some sort of face at Brian. I faltered in my talking for a moment, caught Brian's eye, and then continued, figuring the interruption was done.

I was wrong.

Over the next twenty minutes, Brian's attention continued to be caught by this creature. I peered over a couple times and as far as I could tell, she was mouthing words to Brian, who (I'll admit) seemed a little confused, but continued to engage with the woman and even to seemingly chuckle a couple times. (Seemingly because upon later discussion, Brian insists he was not.)

Heather kept staring at me while I tried to continue talking normally during this. Her eyes, however, showed that her own inner beast had been awakened, as the scent on the air promised a showdown. As I tried to tame my own angry animal by convincing myself that this situation shouldn't bother me and I was reading too much into it, Heather's eyes conveyed that she, too, saw the dynamics at play and that meant this wasn't all happening in my head.

I tried to take the high road, as much as was possible. I tore a piece of paper from the corner of a sheet and wrote, STOP LOOKING AT HER on it, then slid that to Brian. Brian....oh, sweet, naive Brian...wrote back, SHE'S TRYING TO TELL ME SOMETHING. Why is it somehow more infuriating when the boy doesn't realize there's a game afoot? Is it a bit like when the girl runs upstairs to hide from the serial killer: you just can't believe they don't see the problem? In any case, I took a deep breath and wrote, IT'S A GIRL GAME. STOP NOW. Brian looked confused and attempted to look away from Andromeda, unfortunately without a plan on where to look instead. Naturally, his attention was recaptured by the she-devil.

Heather was attempting to chat naturally, though she was well aware of the scene unfolding. I mm-hmm'ed a couple times, then said, 'One sec?', leaned in close to Brian ear, and tried to look amiable as I whispered, "Listen to me carefully. She's effing with you. This is a game. You need to stop engaging with her, put all your attention on me, and give me a kiss on the cheek and put your arm around me." I then resumed my chat with Heather as if nothing had happened. Brian, now focused with specific tasks, seemed relieved. He diligently followed these directions as if I'd leaned in and said, 'Follow me if you want to live.'

Shortly thereafter, bored now that her prey was no longer playing along, Andromeda left. Without a word on the issue, we and Heather parted ways as well.

Poor Brian. Poor me! We got home and I started off so rational. I told Brian that we needed to talk about what had happened, because I was sure he wasn't getting the big picture on that whole interaction. I explained that Andromeda had drawn a line in the sand by making a weird, pointed, personal comment about me; that she had chosen to sit close to our table to infringe on our space; and that she had demonstrated her superiority and her validity as a challenger by successfully distracting Brian away from me--and specifically, away from our wedding conversation.

Now, Brian made a mistake early on in this conversation; boys out there, learn from this. When your girlfriend tells you she's feeling a little insecure or jealous, do not laugh at her and tell her it's cute. We do not feel cute. We feel stupid and crazy. We also genuinely feel concerned. Because even if you're the most trustworthy dude on the planet (example: Brian), the girl we dislike may not be (example: Andromeda), and we are really serious about what we're saying. Depending on the severity of the occurence, and how much of a role you played in it, we may also be ticking time bombs, where a laugh changes the entire conversation from a loving chat, to a scene of interrogative carnage.

Guess what happened to poor Brian.

It's an odd experience, when you've forgotten about this primal beast inside of you, to find it rampaging and taking over your brain. I could hear myself explaining the fact that, I'm sorry, but on a basic level we are still animals, and that we have instincts and intuition, and I'm sorry I'm crazy but this instinct cannot be denied.  I could also hear myself explaining to Brian how, by paying attention to her instead of me, he'd sent a non-verbal message that he could be wiled away from me, that she might have a chance with him, and that sticking her tail high in the air was winning his attention.

Brian loudly proclaimed that it wasn't fair that girls had these games, these tests, and that boys were somehow supposed to know about them. I threw my hands in the air in exasperation and told him, boys aren't supposed to know about them because they are tests, and they're just supposed to get the answer right--and Brian had gotten the answer dead-wrong. I admitted this was perhaps crazy, but it was the laws of the jungle and my inner tiger was not impressed. I repeatedly apologized and reneged my apologies on the same breath. I also cursed myself for my petty insecurities and called myself a traitor to the modern woman. That tiger just sat there and laughed at me. I even have a blurry recollection of shouting, "She basically peed on you, Brian, and marked you as hers!" (Ah, yes, I do recall this, and sweet Brian attempted to reassure me by shouting back, "It's okay, J--you peed on me first!" This of course sent me into a spiral of self-loathing as I realized I was talking about my beloved like a piece of territory.)


I talked to my mom a few days later about the incident, and she laughed and laughed. I felt a renewed sense of awe at the level of territorial fury that had emerged from me; I told her it was like a Mutual of Omaha 'Animal Kingdom' special, and even as I write this entry, that old theme song repeats in my head. She said she and dad had the same discussions because he, too, was unaware of other women's flirtations. I felt better, because while I logically know that Brian isn't the only boy who would step right into the booby trap, it was good to hear that someone like my dad had done it, too...and most importantly, that my parents had eventually found a way to work it out. 

It's a bit of a blur, that hour of near-shouting between Brian and I, but somewhere in there, we appeased the beast with a conversation about how to deal with situations like this in the future. I won't give away our strategies, as I don't want you all noticing them. Even my tiger-self was reassured by the genuine wide-eyed innocence of Brian, who clearly has no interest in this woman, and is the kind of sweet, social guy who wouldn't understand that Andromeda was definitely not invited into our coffee date that day. It was a good conversation to have, because if nothing else, Brian learned that it's not a good idea to call a woman 'cute' when she's upset. And we were both reminded that there is still lots of learning to be done in this relationship.

Oh yeah, and I learned that I am not a fan of a certain woman.