Sometimes, I forget what a f*&ked up, paranoid, white, straight man’s world my husband deals with most days, mostly because I am way too busy dealing with the f*@ked up world most women have to deal with.
My husband’s a teacher and a lifelong public servant, so his time is spent writing lectures, grading papers, contacting parents, advocating for people without a voice, taking courses, and helping people write well.
But that doesn’t mean we are unsocial.
For example, at a gathering for supposedly socially conscious-minded people, an elderly man approached my husband and, after introducing himself, launched into a long story about a factory he used to own.
If we were to believe his story, it was quite a lucrative venture, and for a long time, he and his wife (who was hovering nearby, shooting me dirty looks) lived in a tony neighborhood out of state. He went on and on about how lovely their former house was, complete with a swimming pool and golf course membership that served lunches that they could not find anywhere in North Carolina.
(Later in the car ride home, we wondered if he was lying, a con man, losing his mind—or maybe both. He was probably the oldest, spy? con? we’d met.)
That’s when this same elderly man gave a loud sigh. He explained how, unfortunately, North Carolina was the only place they could move to for retirement.
“More bang for our buck…” he said, and our eyes widened when he punctuated the word buck.
Once he outlined and sprayed his male territory, he asked what my husband’s line of work was.
He told him he was a teacher, but the guy cut him off before he could explain his other interests. This guy said,
“That’s tough. I have no idea how teachers can do it,”
and started talking about himself again.
“I made [millions], and my other companies make [millions]…blah, blah, blah,”
And our eyes rolled back in our heads.
But he kept talking and talking, and I will never forget this part, which was a story about how he dealt with the workers in his factory because this guy’s mask had slipped off completely by now. He leaned in close to me and, with a deep cigar smoker’s tenor, told me,
“Believe me, I had plenty of ways to deal with my workers if they got out of line!”
He did that thing, touching his elbow to my elbow and giving me a wink.
That’s when I am reminded that my husband is much more important than this guy will ever be, and that’s why he threatens him. This guy made millions. My husband is worth millions.
Now, we just avoid him.
Enjoy this video:
Mary Louise Penaz 
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