At this point, you women out there, especially those who are GenXers who grew up and matured in the years I did (the carefree and optimistic 1980s and 1990s, the lowered expectations of the 2000s, the tech-heavy/online 2010s) might be saying, "Wait, .... Helen, ..... you walked up to a strange woman, in public with her date, and asked to have a word with her .... in private. You realize you were instigating shit between herself and yourself, right? Right?!? Like, .... have you ever BEEN IN a catfight?".
The answers to all of your questions, whether you mean them rhetorically, are: Yes.
Yes, I really did approach a woman, in public, in front of her date.
Yes, I knew I was provoking her.
And, Yes. Yes, I've been in catfights.
My catfighting experience, before Saturday night at least, was standard boilerplate privileged White Girl fare:
<1> Hairpulling drama at high school dances and sleepovers, which were quickly broken up by responsible adults.
<2> More serious face-offs with ex's and hometown girlfriends of college boyfriends, some of which involved actual fists flying.
<3> Jockeying for social standing with PTA MILFs as our children mingled inside and outside of pre-school, elementary school, and middle school. (By high school, I required my only child, a daughter, to fight her own battles--not that she needed much coaxing; my daughter wanted 'out of the nest' as quickly as she could, sensing--correctly-- that her father and I were headed to separation and divorce.)
<4> In 'blowback' from <2>, late night searching and drunk-texting old rivals on Facebook and Instagram as we all changed and re-changes last names from marriage and divorce, moved back and forth across the country, and watched the explosive growth of our alma mater, University of Central Florida in Orlando, into the largest ungraduate enrollment of any college in the country. Usually this late night activity resulted in little more than snarky trash-talk by email or text. But sometimes, it escalated into a phone call/video chat/in person meeting/all of the above. And, yes .... someimes I 'scored' a IRL middle-aged catfight out of the above.
I'll keep the particulars private, both to protect the innocent, since I've already disclosed my UCF connection.
But suffice to say .... I kinda enjoyed pulling hair and slapping with a woman my size and age. It got my blood running. It kept my young. And as my sex drive and sexual opportunities waned, my catfighting habits helped fill the 'hole'.
It gave me a reason to get up in the morning.
And judging by Melanie's rapid taking up of the 'Might I have a word with you in private?' gauntlet, perhaps she and I were of like mind.
It was like being at UCF at a 1989 college party and a boy asking you your major.
If you laughed it off, he got the message and moved on to a more willing girl.
If you said, 'I'm studying Economics, what are you?', the flirtation was 'on'.
It was like swiping right or left in 2019.
Well, Saturday night, I had messaged Melanie. (by approaching her)
She swiped right. (by heading to the Ladies' Room)
This battle was off to a promising start.
That must be why my hands were shaking.
To be continued.....