Temptation

Temptation

Before the Las Vegas commercial declaring “anything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” there occurred --what we referred to as, “the Duluth incident.” Three friends and I were in Duluth, Minnesota for a college homecoming weekend. We arrived in separate vehicles at the hotel, on a cool Friday evening. We took turns catching up as it had been years since some of us had seen each other. As we were preparing to go out that night, my hotel roommate, Vivian, said to me, “You know the rule, right?”

Me, being the only one who hadn’t gone to college in that town, said, “I didn’t know there was a special rule just for this weekend.” I honestly thought she was being overly serious and melodramatic…Little did I know how this “rule” would later affect my life. I thought she was joking…what?… no gunfights after sundown? no polka dancing with transvestites?…no breaking into the dean’s office and photocopying your ass?
Very seriously, she said to me “Anything that happens this weekend stays here. We have a girlfriend’s oath and you have to take it or we will lock you in the hotel bathroom and shove really flat food under the door to feed you until Sunday afternoon.” I laughed, and not wanting to live on a diet of pita bread and quesadillas for the next two and a half days, agreed to it. How wild could it get? Besides, we were all married. Vivian had a one-year old daughter at home. She was a new mom for pete’s sake. We were too old to get into any real trouble. The worst that could happen would be Vivian would smoke some of the pot that she so loved, we might get a little drunk, laugh too loudly and drive home Sunday afternoon partied out, and probably a little hung-over.

We went out to three or four bars, that Friday evening and eventually we ran into some friends that Vivian knew from her college days. The bar was located on an upper level. It was dark and made our complexions look fabulous. But it had a beautiful mahogany back bar with lions perched upon the pedestals that adorned the bar, watching and judging with their piercing yellow eyes waiting for us-any of us- to err in judgement.

Vivian ordered a pitcher of kamikazes for herself and the two other women and I thought that was pure insanity and asking for trouble….Prissy little me. I stuck with my beer to be on the safe side, ever the cautious one. The people that they ran into that they knew were in some fraternity all those years ago. I was playing darts and one of the fraternity guys came up to me and asked me if I wanted to play. Yeah, sure, whatever, I wasn’t about to be corrupted by the Kamikaze crew. We played a couple games. I excused myself to the ladies room which was all the way across the bar (about 20 yards). By the time I got halfway to the ladies room Vivian accosted me.

The first words that came out of her mouth were “Take off your wedding ring. Mike is asking about you.” Who was “Mike” and why did I care that he was asking about me? It turns out that “Mike” was the stranger I was playing darts with.

A thousand thoughts ran through my brain in about four seconds. The cliched good angel and evil devil were perched like manic whooping cranes on my brain “I am married to a really nice guy, a nice, sturdy guy…anything that happens in Duluth stays in Duluth...he is a nice, reliable guy, everyone says so… but he would never know…my closest friend must think its okay or why would she have told me to take off my wedding ring?…what would my mother say?…what would everyone say?…what could possibly happen with this “Mike,” anyway?…a statement my cousin made about divorcing my husband ran through my brain, “If you and Jim get a divorce, everyone will know its your fault because Jim is SUCH A NICE GUY!!”..I hadn’t even known this dart-playing mystery man’s name until Vivian revealed it to me two seconds ago.…Vivian gave me more information about him in his name when she said he was asking about me than I had gotten myself…was he interesting?…he was kind of interesting, in a Doogie Howser way, I guess…definitely nothing like my husband, who was a nice guy, football player type…this guy was more tall lanky string-beany…was I capable of hurting my husband in this way? …denying his existence? ?…My “good Lutheran upbringing” slapped me in the face… Didn’t I love my husband? DID I love my husband? Had I ever loved my husband? It was as if my life with him was passing before my eyes. Like they say what happens to you right before you die. Maybe my life with him was dying before my eyes. How could I even consider such a monstrous move? What kind of unfeeling, compassionless person would take off their wedding ring for--at most, a guy who was semi-interested in me? For all I knew was a drug dealer, or worse…of course, Vivian knew him from college, so chances were he wasn’t drug dealer…but how well did she know him really? And who cared if he was a drug dealer, I could NOT do this thing…it was not me. I would not have a tawdry, sordid one-night stand. Again, didn’t I love Jim?”

The fact that I asked myself this question “Didn’t I love Jim” so many times in the 4 seconds, made me question that question. Nice guy husband notwithstanding, I reapplied my lipstick, shoved the ring in the front pocket of my jeans and went back to the dart-board. At this point, I was having some intense questions about my morality, self-respect, and self-esteem…but apparently the questions didn’t kill the “evil whooping crane”...and the “good” one wasn’t strong enough to make me put that damn ring back on.

When I arrived home from the trip, I didn’t trust myself. I wasn’t about to ignore what I done. In my mind, I had shattered my marriage. I came to the realization that if I was capable of that betrayal, I should not be married to this person. It was the reality slap I actually needed to admit what I had known all along. I married this nice guy because if I hadn’t, I felt that “everyone” would have thought there was something wrong with me. Plus the fact that kept staring me in the emotional face… I couldn’t find a NICER GUY. My own insecurity had begun and ended a marriage.

In retrospect, I wish I would have had the strength to say no when he proposed, or at least put a stop to the wedding planning machine once it began. I am sure he wishes I had said no as well. I never told him about the “Duluth Incident” and my friends never spoke about it. In fact, as I write it here is the first time I know of that it has been put down on paper, or even thought of by anyone except me. However, the effects of that temptation were that life changed for me and that my life path was forever altered.
I live with the guilt of my potential disloyalty and the knowledge that I am weak and human and fallible. I think I, had to go through that experience to disturb my pleaser gene. Initially, when I felt my family turned against me, and took his side, I felt I deserved it…even though they never knew the reason why I said I didn’t love him anymore and was going forward with the divorce. I couldn’t admit I was such a fool that I had married someone I never really had loved. Too young and too much of a “follower” to love anyone especially myself, I felt I deserved everything I got and more from anyone who took his side because I was an emotional jellyfish.

I still have my backsliding moments, but for the most part I truly feel liberated; stronger and better for having lived through, and not giving up on my family or myself. I believe I would have a broken spirit if I had stayed married to him. However change had to come about, I am glad it did. Bless the “Duluth Incident” and all of its repercussions. It turned out “the Rule” gave me some kind of a freedom to take the reins of my life and make a change. Amazing how the smallest incidents can have the farthest-reaching consequences.