Our weekly jazz outing is a great place to meet up with friends and make new acquaintances. Last night the conversation was lively, fun, a little bit raunchy and then the guys left to dance with their daughters, an activity that I feel casts men, my husband in particular, in a charming light. Being a good father is a very hot quality. Anyway the women huddled closer to make conversing easier, but the conversation went from bright and buoyant to dull and dragging, like someone had flipped a switch. Suddenly we were talking about one particular woman’s blood pressure! She was telling us her stats – this number over that number. I actually thought: Am I going to let this too loud woman bore me to death or am I going find me something more pleasurable to do? I interrupted the woman’s prattle and said something like “Excuse me, I’m going to go dance with my husband now.”
Okay, this may not be a huge deal for anybody else, but normally I feel like I should be polite, not interrupt (especially for something as base as my own pleasure), be a good girl, all that nonsense. It was a little frenchy (some might say bitchy) moment for me- but it allowed me to savor one of life’s little bon-bons – a dance with my husband.
This experience also brings up the question of whether women (and men) are more interesting in each others’ company versus in same sex groups. Do mixed groups foster more entertaining repartee?
