Can I tell you a secret?
I'm going to eat at a place tonight that I do not like. I'm going to meet people that I do not like.
Lemme' back up.
Last year in October, I suffered from a bout o' crazy. I had decided that my old birth control was boring (even though nothing was wrong with it) and instead decided to try Nuvaring. You can read more about that fun/hellish ride by clicking here. I want a stiff drink just thinking about that time in my life.
Anyway, at this time, Joe decided to introduce me to two of his friends. I'll admit, I thought that it would be FANTASTIC. Here is the "other couple" that we've been waiting for. The one that we would go on double dates with, the one that we would play cards with, the one that we would laugh and take vacations with. We found our couple friends - at last!
Only when I walked into the severely overpriced restaurant, I felt uncomfortable immediately. We met the couple (who were more than politely late) and for the sake of this blog, I'll call them Snooty and Snobby. They started talking about concertos and what their favorite sonata is. They discussed people I didn't know and topics that I had nothing to do with. It was the.most.boring.dinner ever.
They suggested ordering a bottle of wine for the table and then made a joke about how they should just order White Zinfandel. Peals of laughter exploded from their lips.
"As IF we would order that swill," said Snooty.
"I know! How do people even drink that? It's preposterous!" said Snotty.
Joe gave me a look as if to say 'sorry' because he knows that that was usually what I ordered at restaurants. I have since graduated to Pino Noir which is still below their acceptable wine level.
When it came time to order dinner, they decided to split an entree' saying that it's just so much food to eat! No one could possibly eat all of the food that they serve at this place! So, Joe and I decided to do the same.
Dinner arrived and our plate had 6 ounces of fish on it. That's right. We had to split 6 ounces of fish. Luckily we ordered a side of asparagus (which was great) to help fill in the black hole that is my stomach. Only, Snooty and Snobby decided to help themselves to our side of asparagus and continued to talk about the most boring crap ever.
By the end of dinner, I had only been asked one question which was "Are you German?" When I said no, I had to listen to reasons why they THOUGHT I was German. And here's the thing. I don't give two craps about what someones lineage is, but really? That's the one thing you want to know about me?
During these "conversations" I felt insecure. So much of what I was feeling was due to the hormone instability from the Nuvaring, but I couldn't shut down my emotions. I felt picked on, belittled, unimportant, and sad.
The waiter came back to entice us to order dessert. At this point, I was so OVER this dinner that I declined to order. Joe looked at the menu and, knowing that I was watching my weight but that I like ice cream, recommended the KIDS ice cream cup on the menu while the three of them would split a dessert.
I almost ripped his face off right then but it would've gotten blood on the custom linen tablecloths and I didn't feel like paying a dry cleaning bill.
The bill for two entrees, one appetizer (which only they ate), two sides, and one bottle of wine was almost almost as much as my car payment. So what if I was raised by people who drank wine out of a box from time to time? The $150 bottle of wine didn't taste discernibly better.
I remember leaving that dinner hungry and sad. I doubted my own worth and couldn't believe that Joe didn't stick up for me more.
We got home and had a "discussion" where I SOBBED. I told him all the things that I was feeling. I told him how I thought his friends were snobby and snooty and how I didn't want to ever be around them again. I cried my heart out. I was disappointed in myself for buying into the belief that I wasn't good enough.
I was sad that they weren't the couple that I wanted them to be.
Joe apologized for not bringing the discussion around more to me and my life and tried to console me...but he thought I was over-reacting too. And in his defense, I was. I knew it. I'm usually pretty even keel. To this day, I blame my OVER reaction on Nuvaring. I mean, it was not a fun dinner, but it wasn't something worthy of SOBBING about either. *
So, we were invited to their house for a Christmas wine tasting (I am SO not kidding) that was passable, but only because I had 5 glasses of wine. And every time Joe has been invited to go out with them, I've had other plans.
I don't want to go. I don't want to be hungry. I don't want to re-live the doubting myself, the tittering laughter, and the uber boring topics. But I do feel like I want to prove that I can hang out with people in dreadful circumstances and still act sane when it's done.
To be clear, Joe said that I didn't have to go. And I know that if it sucks again (and seriously, let's be honest, it TOTALLY WILL), I won't choose to go again. I think I just have to go this one time to feel like it's not me, it's not the Nuvaring. These people really are douche canoes.
I'm going to go and try to remember this quote:div>
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." ~Eleanor Roosevelt
So any suggestions on what I could or should do at dinner tonight? We're going to the same overpriced restaurant as before.
* I don't know why he's friends with these people. I've met his other friends and they're fantastic - not snooty or snobby at all. He used to work with both of them and I know that they were two of the people that helped him at his old job. But I have no idea why the heck one would actually choose to hang out with these people.
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