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Sunday, April 3, 2011

Hot Like Him

If you think he's hot
Chances are others do, too.
Roll with it, Girlfriend!

I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

The first time I clapped eyes on the man who would eventually become my husband, I (swear to God) literally couldn't breathe for about thirty seconds. Then I automatically assumed he must be married and/or gay and/or incredibly arrogant, because anyone that good-looking couldn't be just a nice, single straight guy hoping to settle down and raise a couple of kids.


Fortunately for me, I was wrong, and here I am, married to Mr. Breathtaking … who is, I must say, aging nicely. (The same gray hair and crinkly eyes that are making me look like my grandmother Harriet only add to his masculine appeal; go figure.)


Anyway, the Big Kahuna is a babe. I knew it then and I know it now, so it shouldn't come as a shocker when other women say as much … but it kind of does. I remember the first time it happened, shortly after we began dating. We were both teachers then, and BK was also coaching basketball. Besotted as I was (and even though I've never been a particular fan of the game) I loyally parked myself in the bleachers and cheered my heart out. ("Go, Panthers!") One night, seated amongst the other fans, I was watching my beloved in the process of getting booted off the court for arguing with a referee when the woman next to me sighed.


"He is so hot."


Puzzled, I looked over at Panther mom, whom I knew slightly. Was she talking about the ref? (The guy in black and white stripes was paunchy and bald, but hey, lots of people think that's cute.) She must have seen the question in my face, because she gestured toward the court and smiled … a little lasciviously, it seemed to me. "Mr. K." Then she scooted over and gave me a little poke in the ribs with her elbow. "You're a lucky woman, you know?"


Well, yes, I thought to myself … I certainly am. But it felt kind of awkward admitting as much to a near-stranger, as if she somehow had an inside track on my relationship and knew way more than she should, like just how much I lusted after this man and wanted to marry him and have his babies and spend the rest of my life basking in his presence …


Of course the Panther Mom sitting next to me knew nothing of the sort. She was just stating the obvious: the guy who was at that point striding back to the bench was a remarkable specimen of male pulchritude, put together in all the ways that define aesthetically pleasing, worthy of admiration and comment …


In short … hot.


It was a throwaway remark – a compliment, really – and I'm sure Mrs. Panther (who was starting to look more like a cougar to me) never gave a second thought to the interchange, but over the years I've had reason to recall that brief interaction more than a few times, because it happens … not all the time, to be sure … but people respond positively to the Big Kahuna's fine appearance. Sometimes it's just eyes following him appreciatively as he crosses a room. Less often someone will actually say something to me about him: Wow, your husband's a good-looking guy.


More often than not, I'm kind of flattered when a friend or acquaintance expresses a healthy appreciation of my man. It makes me feel validated, as if someone is admiring my taste in males much in the same way she might compliment my shoes. But sometimes – and it's hard to say exactly at what point–another woman's admiration for what's mine crosses the line from flattering to flustering.


I'm not talking about flirting with someone else's spouse here. That is another can of worms entirely, and rarely (if ever) acceptable, in my humble opinion. Noting the attractiveness of another person’s significant other is a far more subtle practice that can be perfectly acceptable … until it's not.

My friend Starshine, who writes a wonderful syndicated column about things like life and relationships in the modern world, puts it this way: "After years of marriage, it's healthy to glimpse your spouse through the fresh eyes of someone who doesn't, you know, rinse out his coffee cup four times a day. Like, 'Oh, yeah! He IS kind of studilicious. I forgot!' But when a gal pal presses the issue, I get suspicious and begin swatting words like 'swinger' and 'homewrecker' out of my head until I can change the subject."


So: while it's OK to give a girlfriend a compliment and fresh perspective on her life partner, it's not OK to belabor the point. Context is also important. My sister can make fun of my marriage all she wants (“What does he see in you, horseface???”) but she’s my sister, for heaven’s sake, and it’s her duty to taunt me. Plus, she’s got a perfectly decent spouse of her own, so I’m not threatened.


But family and friends are one thing. Leering at a coworker's guy when he comes by the office to drop off lunch, or insinuating attraction for a mere acquaintance? Not so much.


My colleague Barbie (who is herself a hottie of the highest order) is very comfortable with the fact that her husband, Ken, leaves a wake of swooning women pretty much everywhere he goes. She's used to it, and they are charmingly, goopily, in love, so it's no big deal. Until one of Ken's random admirers starts trying to get a little too close … to her.


“We were at a professional function one evening, and this woman looked right at me and said my husband was ‘just her type.’ That was weird. I could feel myself turning red.” On cue, Barbie starts to flush whenever she relates this story. “It still bugs me,” she admits.


So in the end … as with so much in life … navigating the waters around someone else’s marital good fortune comes down to my mother’s favorite dictum: appropriateness. Giving a girlfriend a verbal high-five for having landed a babe? Appropriate. As long as you say it, and then drop it. Complimenting a co-worker or acquaintance with a few thoughtful, well chosen words (“You two look terrific this evening; you’re such a striking couple!”) is also perfectly acceptable. Sidling up to a matched pair and implying you’d like to join in on the fun is most decidedly inappropriate …


… and so on. We’re all grownups, so it should be pretty easy to put ourselves in the other person’s shoes and weigh the impacts of our actions. It’s nice to make other people feel good about themselves.


My friend Kay (who in addition to being the stereotypical Hot Librarian is also godmother to one of my children and one of my favorite people in the world) happens to be married to a Brit who makes Hugh Grant look like sloppy seconds. This is duly noted by a lot of people, especially as their two sons appear to be turning out just like dear old dad – gorgeous. No harm, no foul as far as Kay is concerned. She sent me the following from her iPhone in between intercepting tweenie text messages and putting the kibosh on dating until high school:


“Maybe it feels like a reflection on my excellent taste, or maybe it makes me feel like people are wondering if I have some well-hidden sexy side myself.

“That,” she wrote with an arch-smiley emoticon. “Doesn’t bother me at all.”







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