Small Town

Last night Mistress and Slave went to an art opening in an older, semi-revitalized part of town. It was an urbanista thing. Lots of folks dressed in various shades of black,  spanning the age range. The artist was someone we barely know - but have known a while, former husband of someone I worked with years ago, but who let Mistress know about his show through facebook.

(I think he was flirting a bit with Mistress via facebook messages, but I suppose it could have just been "good marketing", huh?)

Mistress, of course, was looking quite fetching: black boots, tights and dress (yes, fans, those peek-a-boo tights), some tasteful but eye catching SW jewelry, and a turquoise scarf to add a little color. I always feel like the luckiest guy in the room to have her on my arm.


One of the odd aspects about living in a town like River City is all of the connections that randomly pop up at an event like this. The social molecules are just too tightly compacted, so that we're all just bouncing off one another.

So as we entered the door we were confronted by a woman who I have known for years -- she actually used to date my since departed brother during the Reagan regime -- and who Mistress is CONVINCED (despite no supportive evidence I might add) I somehow have the hots for.

As she chatted us up in her rat-a-tat style, I probably made the mistake of expressing knowledge of her recent performance (she is an amateur singer songwriter) at a club in NYC. Somehow, my addled brain even recalled the name of the club. Of course, this was knowledge I had gleened simply from her facebook postings about said gig, not because I had either spoken to her, or somehow snuck out to attend this gig while Mistress was sleeping one night.

In any event, I could tell Mistress was a little discomfited by this expression of what she later described as "intimacy" with this woman (who I had not spoken to, let alone seen in at least a couple of years).... ah, well..... I expect I've already earned a few strokes from Mistress's crop this afternoon.  Better for her to let it out than let it fester is my motto.

Of course, we were not done with all these strange encounters. It turned out that the artist who seemed to be flirting with Mistress had somehow become engaged in recent weeks to a woman we had just met only recently. Her bizarre connection to us was as the ex-wife of a guy who had lived with and almost married my ex-wife in the 1990's. (Of course, before that she was married to a former NFL QB, but I won't go down that road.... I know you all hate it when I get into sports and politics).

"Hmmmm..... how did that happen so fast Mistress.... and here he was flirting with you and courting someone else.... shocking......"

"Shut up.... Slave...."

See, she was still pissed about the singer song-writer.

Then the ex-wife of the artist shows up with their mutual daughter. "Just showing support for his work", s she put it.

This is the woman I worked with in the 1980's and 1990's. In their conversation, Mistress reminded me that somehow this woman dated or was otherwise involved with a guy who Mistress worked with at the time (he now shows up on MSNBC a good bit). This woman, nice, but always a bit of a flake, described meeting Mistress circa 1988, in her mid-20's -all excited about her trip to the Democratic National Convention that summer. And it seems she did take note that Slave, her more senior colleague, was on that trip too. Apparently someone was connecting our dots for us.

But as she noted, "the statute of limitations has expired on that one...."

Now, who am I missing....

There was the Jewish real estate investor who sidled up the Mistress at some point while I was fetching her another little plastic cup of wine. He seemed to be taken by her, and a little disappointed when I showed up. They quickly ran through all of their tribal connections: mothers were pals, that guy he went to high school that we all know, yadda, yadda.

Somehow I suspect Mistress will be hearing from him on facebook.