I have a confession: I was never good at playing games. As such, I was always the next to the last to be selected for team sports. (Believe it or not, there was a kid worse than I was. I can’t decide whether I am proud of this or ashamed, but I secretly took great pleasure in not being the last to be picked.)
As a teenager, I remembered the games some girls played when it came to boys. You know, giving them false phone numbers and even false names and such? I never understood that. If they didn’t want to be bothered with a boy, wouldn’t it have been simple enough to tell them that? Was I missing something there?
Apparently, games also spilled over into so-called adult relationships. For instance, I’m reminded of a trip my then BFF and I took to Las Vegas some years ago. We had just left one of the many casinos, when a guy rode up to us on skates—yes, skates. Since never learning to skate, frankly, I was a little envious. Then I thought, a grown man skating on the streets of Las Vegas? That’s just plain weird!
Anyway, Skate Man approached us and asked where we were going. Sheri* (*not her real name) answered, so I didn’t bother. It was as hot as you know what outside and I was longing to get back into a cool building and get something cool to drink (preferably a Screw Driver or Tom Collins—don’t judge me).
“So what are your names?” Skate Man asked. Okay, I confess, I was tempted to give him a false name. Again, Sheri answered for the both of us, telling him that her name was Mary. Mary? Seriously? (I forgot what she told him mine was).
Skate Man kept up a running commentary—about what I have no clue—while skating around us the entire time. (I guess one does not stand still when wearing skates.)
Getting hotter and thirstier by the minute, I decided that we needed to cut this confab short. So I asked, “Mary, are you about ready to go?” No answer: Sheri/Mary kept chatting.
So, a little louder, I asked, “Mary, are you about ready to go?” Again, nothing! Finally, I asked much louder, “MARY, are you about finished?” Sheri/Mary had forgotten her name, before suddenly remembering. Bidding Skate Man goodbye, we left him skating to his next encounter, I suppose.
The lesson here? If you give someone a false name, it helps to remember it. (To be honest, I probably would have forgotten it too.) That’s the reason I don’t play games, give folks false information or talk to men on skates.
-Author Carol Gee
Retired military (AF) veteran, Author, Columnist and Motivational Speaker
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