The Question of When

      “The question wasn’t so much if as it was when.”

     “What?  Come on Marrianne.  You can’t be serious.”  We had missed our bi-weekly dinner due to conflicting work schedules.  Essentially there had been a massive accident on 84 and the re-route took me 40 minutes south through the New Haven Area because there had also been another accident on 691, another barely paved, 3 lane dirt road.  I had been re-routed so far from my destination by the time I got there it would have been too late to enjoy the time we had.

     “Sadly I can see her husband’s point of view.”  It was lasagna tonight.  I loved lasagna.

     “Karl used to ask me all the time.  ‘Did you fuck him?’ ‘Did he try to fuck you?’”

     “Really?”

     “Do you remember my 30th birthday?”

     “Not rea...”

     “We all got hammered and stumbled around Boston?”

     “Marrianne, we did that for every birthday in Boston.”

     “This was the year you brought up the massage chair.”

     “Oh...”

     “Right ‘Oh’!”

     In the years after the Paris Incident I spent time honing my massage skills.  Of course I didn’t go to massage school.  I couldn’t afford it.  I would get a massage once or twice a month, note what was being done, what worked, and keep a mental rolodex of what they did.  I read books and watched videos.

     I never positioned myself as a massage therapist but I got to the point where I could relieve some pressure and remove the stress from a shitty day/week/month.

     The hugs also had a big following.  If you give a big bear hug you open up muscles to be massaged.  If I support you while you are getting the hug you don’t have so much pressure on your body.  If I give you a big bear hug after you have less stress, and less pressure, the comfort of a hug with no malicious intent just tends to make some people feel better.

     I was popular at parties and little gatherings, unless you happened to be someone’s husband or boyfriend.  The husbands and boyfriends were concerned it was just a ploy to feel up their wives and girlfriends.

     Some of them took me up on a hug for themselves and understood.  Most didn’t.

     There was one guy who was convinced that everyone was trying to sleep with his wife.  She was an attractive woman.  She probably could have had any man she wanted before him.  We all found him repulsive as a human being.  No one wanted anything physically to do with her after he had bragged about their sex life. 

     “I had no idea she was married,” I protested with a mouthful of tasty cheese and sauce.  

     She was convinced that the massage was a prelude to a deeper evening event, even if the event wasn’t that evening.  It wasn’t going to happen that evening or ever.  It turns out he had been lying about their sex life.  She was just happy that someone was touching her and not asking for something in return.

     “AND,” I shook my finger towards the ceiling, “I let her and everyone else know that from the get go.”  I thought more about it.

     “You know I remember arriving at a party and overhearing someone say ‘Oh shit he’s here.  Where’s my wife?’”

     “You see I’m not crazy.”

     “There was another time when someone’s life was falling apart.  I said ‘Let’s go get massages, eat some really expensive sushi, and stumble around the city.’  It wasn’t Boston,” I cut her off right before she spoke.  “It was Northampton.  She said no and told her friends I was just down to pound.”

     “Her brother called me a fucking creep and she didn’t talk to me for 3 years.”

     “You do give off that vibe.  I mean that’s a bit harsh,” she said catching some of the lasagna in her hand before it hit her sweats, “but you yourself have said it.

     “Most men who put in that much effort just want to get laid.”

     I just wanted to be invited back.  Hell, I even helped clean up and did dishes after parties.  I actually thanked people for letting me into their homes after the gatherings.  Now it was the work and home show.  

     “Well I don’t want to sleep with Grocery Girl.  I just need to get this phone situation under control and then the hibernation prep begins.”

     I could feel the hibernation pulling me in for a warm winter embrace.  I would be able to use the winter as an excuse to not go out.  The Hibernation would always lead to less stress, less pressure and a level of clarity.

     It wasn’t a question of if I was going to hibernate, it was a question of when.  How long would it take this year to ease the mind and cleanse the soul.  I didn’t want to get caught in another massive accident and get re-routed so far away from my destination I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the time I had.