What a Strange Man in a Bar can Teach
She is Madison Avenue's dream customer, a sucker for beauty ads, who has wasted embarrassingly large sums of money in the pursuit of the one magic cream that actually lives up to its promise of eliminating wrinkles. Each year
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She has lost six pounds, sixtyfour times in the last ten years, but not an ounce from her hips
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But back to the bar. The bar scene has never been her milieu. She just can't understand how nursing a drink in a room full of strangers could be considered fun. Perhaps this is because the few times she endeavored (at a much, much younger age) to meet suitors in that environment, she came up short. Could it be because she was tall, or because she still used words like "suitor?" She will never know. She does know being painfully shy didn't help.
But back to this bar
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Her son's band is on the bill at that bar on that night and she had to be there. If her kid played in a yurt in Mongolia she would make sure to be there
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As she chokes down a sip, she notices that a man sitting at a table cattycorner from the bar is gazing at her. Intently
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"I knew I looked good tonight," she thinks to herself. "In fact, I've never looked better. No wonder a strange man in a bar is staring at me. I hope my husband notices."
Her husband does not notice. Soon, the band is introduced. The woman knows their whole set by heart and she sings along, gyrating to the music and cavorting for the handsome younger man so obviously smitten by her mature charms. He responds by continuing to stare at her as if she were Venus incarnate
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tiffany, the attention is flattering. After that if becomes creepy. After that it becomes even creepier.
"Is this what movie stars have to endure
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When she can't bear the unwanted attention any longer, she turns to her oblivious husband and says, "Honey, would you please surreptitiously glance at the man at the corner table? He hasn't taken his eyes off me since we got here."
She hopes she hasn't just triggered a scene
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"Honey," he says with the slightest hint of a smirk. "Turn around and look up."
She does. Not 10 inches above her head is a large flatscreen TV broadcasting the Yankees playoff game live. The bartender says It's a nailbiter.
She is embarrassed. Humiliated. What hubris!
But in an odd way, the experience is liberating. She feels free now. free to embrace those stubborn six pounds, free to stop looking for hope in an ointment. The man in the dive bar did her a huge favor. Completely unbeknownst to him, he gave her a muchneeded shot of reality. She is just another middleaged woman who walked into a bar
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