*Tia's Note: This story happened several months ago and at the present time is basically null and void (as my sister is married), but I still think it's funny. And yes, I still like to embarrass her and I have found that telling this situation is one of the best ways to do it. Love You Patty.
Have I got a doozey for you.
Alas, it’s on love. Or jealousy. I haven’t quite decided which one. I received a phone call from my little brother telling me to come to my parent’s home for the weekend, as he would be there and he would be bringing a friend along that “really wanted to meet me.” I’m sure we’ve all heard that line before. Nonetheless, I agreed. Somewhat against my will, but at the same time also slightly interested at the prospect this set-up could hold.
Now first of all, who really wants to be set up? How many people go around telling their baby brother to set them up? Well, I am not one of those people. I don’t want to be set up. I have not requested for this to happen. But I think my brother decided to do it out of the kindness, or the pity, of his little heart, probably thinking that if someone did not step in and something soon, I would keep going along the way I am now, as a single, career-based and focused woman and turn into a lonely spinster. Point taken, thank you Nick.
So Friday night comes and this man comes home to meet me, while by this point in time, I have become nervous and unsure of how to behave, I believe in part to the expectation that this individual had for me. Now you may think that I blew him out of the water with my stunning wit and amazing rhetoric, as I would usually do. Instead I blew him out of the water is another way. This is the way I behaved: I didn’t talk much (which is not normal,) I wasn’t funny (which is atrocious to even think about,) and I didn’t flirt (will someone please take my temperature?)
Why did I do this? I have yet to figure out. But the saga gets juicer. Picture this, my older (and thinner) sister burst onto the scene as she is home over her Christmas break from Indiana University where she is working toward an MBA and JSD (the overachiever of the family, eww.) Well pretty soon she starts seducing this man who was supposed to be mine – sigh; aren’t they all? – and wooing him with her petite frame, deep-set eyes and upbeat personality. (Once again, eww.)
So I take it upon myself to act very mature and proceed to not flirt with him, as she is making her mark upon him. I also threaten her with sidelong glances and dagger-laden looks. Because she knows exactly what she is doing…boy does she know.
To summarize the saga, they ended up making out in the “family” hot tub, although I doubt the family will look at it the same now, as it has been tainted with their steamy kisses.
Needless to say, I was not a happy little dove when I found out about this and the ongoing samples of affection. In fact, I was filled with emotions that are the opposite of happy. I was so mad at my sister! The kind of mad that is much worse that spilling cranberry juice all over my new white jacket. The thoughts ran through my mind, “How could she do this?” “She is so mean!” “I never really liked her.”
But then I stopped, took a breath, and really assessed the situation. Was I willing to have this anger and resentment toward my sister over a boy that I met five days ago? (Although he is tall, attractive and nice…a combo hard to find these days.) Is this the kind of woman I want to be? You know the kind I mean; they get out of sorts over prospective men, they say their first name with this new guys last name to see how it flows, they choose some joker over a relationship they have had and worked at through the years, and on and on and on.
I decided no. Actually make that a loud, resounding NO. (I would say a H*** NO, but my mother would read this and be disappointed in me, so I’ll be keep that out.) The relationship I have with my sister is not worth sacrificing for a boy.
Plus, his clothes are a little too color coordinated. It would never work out.
