It’s hard to know who you can trust these days.
I recently ran into my wife’s friend at Costco. I greeted her warmly. I politely asked about her new job, and I listened attentively to her reply. My wife was somewhere in the store, which I mentioned to this friend, and I spent a few minutes trying to hook them up. When the two of them eventually connected, I continued to do the shopping while they visited. In other words, my behavior was exemplary.
Their visit was long for a grocery store encounter. Finally, the friend said that I had patiently endured enough—that she should be going. Then she reminded me of a nasty comment I once made.
Many Saturdays ago, my wife and I were running errands. On our way home, she wanted me to swing around so that she could see this friend’s new house. I was tired and unenthused. “No” was supposed to convey that. My wife insisted, and I relented. “I’ll drive by,” I said, “but even if we see her in the middle of the street, we are not stopping.”
Days later, upon seeing her friend, my wife eagerly shared her favorable impressions of the house. She didn’t stop there. For reasons that I cannot explain, my wife told this friend what I had said. Not cool. Soon after, her friend confronted me. And here we are years later, and this friend is still bringing up this slight. Again, not cool.
In my perfect world, whatever is said behind the back stays behind the back. Personally, I want my feelings spared. If you can’t say something nice about me, be a pal. Wait for me to leave the room first, then trash away. Unflattering words only hurt when they hit the target.
So, there in Costco, I set the record straight by saying to this friend, “I meant for that comment to stay behind your back. You were never supposed to hear it.”
Then my wife said, “Yeah, why did I tell you? That was kinda mean.”
Yes, it was mean, and my wife apologized to her friend. I, however, made no apologies. I didn’t do anything wrong. As I said, I was completely congenial when I ran into this person in Costco. I have nothing against her. When I made my churlish comment in the car, I wasn’t hurting anybody. My wife was an objective listener. She understood that I was tired and cranky, so my comment was appropriate . . . to an objective listener. Under those circumstances, in my perfect world, I’m protected by the rule that what is said behind someone’s back stays behind their back. My wife broke that rule and was right to apologize.
I’m not promoting smearing people. I think it’s a horrible practice. But the flesh is weak . . . specifically, the lips.
To show that I’m not a hypocrite, I devote these next words to my wife. Treasure, I know you’re reading this. And I’m sorry. I meant for this post to stay behind your back.
Into the Comfort Zone 