Bitches and Bastards and Facebook, Oh My!

Once upon a time, in a quaint little suburban subdivision, we had neighbors from the middle east. They had an arranged marriage and it was a volitile one. Late one night, our doorbell rang loudly, repeatedly. It was the woman.

She was frantic. He'd tried to strangle her. She looked like a crazed wild animal.

He had physically attacked her, but that didn't seem to be what bothered her.

"He called me bitch and bastard," she said, like a five year old tattling on a classmate. She wanted us to be aghast at the verbal abuse. I was way more aghast over the fact he'd tried to kill her.

I remember thinking, he doesn't even know how to throw out a proper insult. You don't call a woman a bastard. As we waited for the police:

"He called me bitch and bastard."

uh huh

"He called me bitch and bastard."

yeah, I heard you

"He called me bitch and bastard," she pleaded, wanting me to get the full gist of the offense.

The incident made me realize how much we make our own meaning of things. Words, situations, other people's actions. "Bitch and bastard" meant nothing to Todd and I. If the man had called us "bitch and bastard," we merely would have been amused at his poor command of the English language(not that either of us can speak a foreign language so no, we really can't talk).

Now please, please don't hate us. We do not think domestic abuse is funny. But every time someone insults one of us, Todd and I say,

"He called me bitch and bastard."

It takes some of the sting out of it. Not that we get insulted a lot, but say, a doctor is rude to Todd on the phone at work, he might say "Dr. So & So called me bitch and bastard."

It means, it doesn't mean anything.

A couple of weeks ago, I sent an old friend a short message on Facebook. A guy I worked with in my early twenties. We were friends, then I developed a crush on him. When I disclosed my feelings, he gave me the old, "I don't want to sacrifice the friendship" line, but the friendship was sacrificed. We lost touch. I cringe to this day thinking about it. It's embarrassing.

Anyway, Todd knows the whole pathetic story, and he knew I sent the guy a Facebook message.

Facebook does that to you. You start thinking about people you knew from various times in your life. I was a bit of a mess when I knew him, working through childhood stuff, and I guess part of me wanted him to know I turned out okay. Besides, we were friends. He was a decent guy. I liked him and was curious about how his life had turned out.

He never responded.

"He totally blew me off," I told Todd today.

Fully offended, he replied,

"That bitch and bastard."

I cracked up.

Then he hugged me and added,

"I sure owe him one."

Smiling, I buried my head in Todd's chest and inhaled him.

Of the other guy?

Thank God he was never into me.