Waiter Wisdom

A conversation with an both an old, complicated friend and two of my favorite waiters at work tonight prompted some thoughts on relationships. Jonny and Mike were in the kitchen and asked why in the eight months I've known them I haven't had a relationship, and both concluded I must hate men. They were kidding, I think, no really they were, at least they said they were kidding, but it did get me thinking.

I love men. I love how they look and smell, I love how big their hands are and that they chop wood and ride motorcycles and always use logic to make decisions. They have hair on their arms and goofy smiles when they're happy. They kiss your forhead and pull the blanket over you when you fall asleep without one. They always carry cash. They listen to you talk and remember birthdays and what you wore when you first met. Men are really, really, insanely bitchen and cool, and good men tend to get me into trouble. I have fallen hopelessly in love with good men.

Jonny in all his wisdom concluded that I didn't try hard enough in my two marriages, Mike thought I needed to sacrifice more. I felt for a moment that I should fill them in on a bit of my relationship history the last fourteen years, explain that sometimes it's not that simple, but I rarely share my personal life with them and I'm not about to start. I know all about giving of oneself and could write a book on sacrifice. Maybe, I said, I just haven't found my person.

My parents may have ruined me when it comes to relationships. At the age of eleven my mom married my step-father after knowing each other all of two weeks and each inherited an airport carousel full of baggage. Teen aged kids who hated the new intruder, ex-spouses, selling a business, starting a business, interfering mother-in-laws, more complications than most sane people would ever take on. But, they somehow knew that with all the outside interference that it was right. That after numerous failed relationships they had found their person. Twenty five years and a book full of adventures later, they still manage to not only make it work, but remain utterly, sickenly in love with one another. I watch my siblings and my dearest friends who have found their soul mates and know that when my time comes, that's what I want. I feel when I'm ready again to share my life with someone that's what I need. Maybe what they have will elude me for the rest of my life, but I'll be damned if I'll settle for anything less. Eric Bana excluded of course.