"I read somewhere," said Rachel, popping in a Nigerian puff puff, "that men become 'invisible' after the age of 36." Everybody laughed. It was her husband's 36th birthday. Over the laughter I heard her add, "... which doesn't matter; he only needs to be visible to me."
The restaurant swirled and the music pounded into my brain. It felt like one of those moments, one of those milestone moments when you realise something that can't be undone or reversed. I am 36. I am invisible - and it doesn't matter, because I don't need to be visible to anyone.
It's been something of a weekend for invisibility. I went to a wedding yesterday - every bit as quirky and as elegant as the couple tying the knot. There was dancing and tea; there were cakes, scones and sandwiches; there was jazz and candyfloss and friends and fun, and on the whole it was quite lovely to be part of. At one point, I was standing by the wall watching some people try the Charleston.
"I wonder when it will be your turn," said someone sidling up to me. I closed my eyes slowly, thinking about this whole notion that it's arranged in 'turns' and that if you wait long enough you somehow get called off the bench and onto the pitch. There were millions of things I could have said. I didn't choose any of them - just like last time. At the last wedding I went to, another person put their arm around my shoulders and without really thinking said, "Aw, don't worry Matt; she'll come along one day." I had wanted to ask for more details, but the person wasn't really all that interested in a response. They just wandered off and left me to feel better about it. I'm starting to think that it doesn't really matter any more - if she does 'come along' I shall probably be invisible to her.
I put my hands in my pockets and smiled, quietly hoping that my friend wouldn't go on to analyse the room with a view to finding me a dance partner.
A little later, while the band skiffled through some jazz numbers, I asked an engaged couple what it's like to contemplate a marriage. They both looked a little surprised and embarrassed.
"Um, we won't know until the wedding night," said the prospective groom, shuffling about. I left feeling a bit puzzled before realising with absolute horror that they must have thought I'd said consummate and not 'contemplate'!
Maybe it's best if I just stay invisible after all, eh?
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