I know about 5 people who live in the New York City area, all of them interesting, intelligent and witty people. One of them, as well as being all those things, is in an open relationship – both she and her husband “take lovers” or whatever the au courant term is for having a piece on the side. She told me more of the details of the way their relationship works, but frankly I didn’t pay much attention to it. It’s not the sort of relationship I’m likely to find myself in, but if both of them want it, more power to them. I know lots of people on-line who are in open relationships, some of whom even tell their spouses that they’re in open relationships. For clarity, I’ll call her “M” because that’s not her name.
Anyway, I read somebody’s blog where he talked about striking up a friendship with a woman in New York City who was in an open relationship, but which never became a sexual relationship. He referred to an awkward encounter with her and her husband, and some amusing aftermath. I know a few of my friends who also know “M” read that blog, so I put in a comment aimed at them, saying something like “hey, it’s an ‘M’ story”. 30 seconds after I posted it, I regretted it because while I considered it extremely unlikely that the one woman I know in New York City would be the woman in the story, it still seemed like the wrong thing to do. Unfortunately there was no way to delete your own comments like there is on LiveJournal, and there was no email address to contact the author.
A few hours later, when insomnia drove me to my computer in the middle of the night, I see that the blogger in question has deleted my comment and blogged a long screed about how he doesn’t use people’s names in his entries, and if you recognize somebody you shouldn’t out them comments. D’oh! Who would have thought that it really was her? Ok, in hindsight I can see why I should have known it was her – if for no other reason than she seems to know *everybody* in Manhatten from the guy doing martial arts and pyrotechnics in the park to more celebrities than you can shake a stick at.
So, “M”, if you read my comment, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.