Last night, I walked into Swirl and thus began the drama – different people, different chambers of emotions.
I sat with my Turkish friends to have a relaxing, don’t think about the day, kind of interchange, but I misread one man’s intentions – I was being friendly, he serious.
Later, after we all dispersed, M came back to my apartment for a nightcap and declared, “Rachel, you are so real.”
Since that seems to be the adjective people have been using most to describe me these days – as in B saying, “he won’t ask you out because you are too real” – or A the other night saying there were only two real people at the party, me and L – and last night M saying “you are so very real” repeatedly as the night went on – it begs the question what is real? Or, better yet, who isn’t real?
Is real the whole deal? Or does real mean I don’t have the artifice necessary to interact in the modern world? Thorstein Veblen said invention is the mother of necessity. I’m constantly tapping my friend G to find out how to gage my interactions – although she always says she can’t believe I was married for so long because I do single better than anyone she has known.
Still for being so real – I’m often clueless. The other night I was invited to a gathering and was a little surprised when another, attractive single woman was invited as well since it was an intimate group. It took me aback and I got miffed and left. I called G on the way home – since she had stayed home to attend to a crisis of sorts – she agreed it broke the code of social interaction – if you have been mousing around with a man, he shouldn’t be double dipping right under your nose.
Must I invent a new Rachel out of necessity? – one less “real” to accommodate the artifice needed to move through this landscape? – you know the old play coy, the Rules, dialing it down a notch – or do I continue as is and let those that can’t or won’t deal with the real fall by the wayside?
I love this song by The Dramatics:
Some people are made of plastic
You know some people are made of wood
Some people have hearts of stone
Some people are up to no good
Aaaaah, but baby, I’m for real
I’m as real as real can get
If what you’re looking for
Is real loving
Then what you see
Is what you get
Ha, whatcha see (whatcha see)
Is whatcha get (is whatcha get)
Whatcha see (whatcha see)
Is whatcha get (is whatcha get)
I said, what you see (whatcha see)
Is whatcha get, now baby (is whatcha get)
And the real thing is the best thing yet
(Is the best thing yet)
You know some people
Are made of lies
To bring you down
And shame your name
But baby, I have good intentions
(Good intentions)
‘Cause breaking hearts just ain’t my game
All I want to do is love you
And sugar I won’t pin you with regret
If what you’re looking for
Is real lovin’ (real lovin’)
Then what you see
Is what you get
I say again
Whatcha see (whatcha see)
Is whatcha get (is whatcha get)
Look at me
Whatcha see (whatcha see)
Is whatcha get (is whatcha get)
I mean, what you see (whatcha see)
Is whatcha get, now baby (is whatcha get)
And the real thing is the best thing yet
(Is the best thing yet)…