Salty was making sauce the other day and invited me over for some. Bored and missing human contact after a Saturday spent cleaning my apartment, I braved the sub-zero wind chill and trekked to her place.
During a commercial break from the Jersey Shore, Salty casually asked how it was for me to see DB on Friday.
Did I mention DB is best friends with Salty’s husband?
I had been at her place for at least an hour (possibly more) and I feel like we had both been circling this question. Then again, maybe it was just me. After all, I have been extra sensitive about this topic the last couple of days.
So when Salty casually asked this question, I shrugged my shoulders and said fine. It’s not that I don’t trust Salty. I do. I just hate putting my friends in awkward situations. And talking trash, even a little trash, about her husband’s best friend seems to me like a hard place to be.
She smiled and launched into a story about when she asked him the same question. Please note to fully appreciate this story, you would have to know Salty. Still, I will do my best to impersonate her rapid style story telling.
“It was funny, we were all sitting on your couch. I can’t remember who was sitting with us, but I was here (Salty indicated the corner seat) and DB was behind me, and someone was sitting right next to me and I turned to DB and asked how he was holding up and he said fine. He said that he didn’t think you minded him being there and I said that if you did he would be the last to know. He said he was sure you would tell him if you wanted him out and I said that sure you had strong opinions and you would have no problem telling him to get out of your place, but that you would never let it show that it bothered you that he was there. I told him he could dance on your table and you would act like you didn’t even notice.”
I smiled at her and said, “You know me so well.” Salty has known me for a long, long time.
She just laughed.
And I relaxed knowing that while I felt like every conflict was showing on my face (or in my shaking hands), in fact I appeared like a cool, gracious hostess.
I believe even Martha Stewart herself would be proud.