I have always been under the impression that there were social niceties that everyone observed; universal knowledge learned by example and regulated by one's peers and the rest of the community.
But apparently I have been living in La-La Land, having dew-drop tea and enchanted scones with the fairy queen.
For example, I assumed people would restrain themselves from peeing on the train platform at 9 o'clock in the morning. And yet, this did not stop a scary man from christening the shelter at McIver station, while I walked past quickly, my face frozen in a rictus of horror.
I also thought that people tended to respect the boundaries of a relationship, whether their own, or someone else's. Some people tie this idea loosely to the concept of brotherhood or sisterhood within the sexes, but I recently learnt that there are people who don't subscribe to the ideals of the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants, unless the pants belong to someone else's boyfriend.
I was invited to an interesting party a few weekends ago. It was the sort of party that you associate with students and togas (but without any togas); a soirée filled with dark corners and shadowy creatures, suspicious smells, too-loud music, floors sticky with spilt drink, and one guy trying to start a funnel contest.
My partner (let's call him MP) and I were introduced, as a couple (that is, using sentences like, "Have you met Angie and her boyfriend, MP?" or "You know MP and his girlfriend, Angie, don't you?") to a few people, including a dark-haired girl who will henceforth be known as Miss A. (I think I am being rather noble here by giving her the benefit of the doubt, and not calling her Miss Bicycle, or Miss Screen-Door-Banging-in-the-Wind, instead.)
Now, as a couple, we stood there and indulged in idle chit-chat with Miss A and a few other people for about five minutes. Later, I left MP surfing the Internet in our friend's bedroom. I then returned to find Miss A sitting on the arm of his chair. It was a very small chair and half of Miss A's behind was practically resting in his lap. I believe she was showing MP her Facebook page, which is possibly some new kind of Gen Y mating ritual.
Now, I do not usually see MP with part of someone's bottom in his lap, but I trust him implicitly, so I simply raised an eyebrow, mentally dug some claws into her back, and left the room. MP tells me that she left soon after, and that her Facebook page was very boring.
Now, the female friends that I told this story to said something along the lines of, "What? Aren't women supposed to stick together?", but then immediately followed up with their own sordid tale.
One girl, Miss B, who had also been at the party, said that she too, or rather, her boyfriend, had been a victim of Miss A. Apparently the three of them were having a conversation in the kitchen, when Miss A pressed herself against Miss B's boyfriend and tried to kiss him. With his girlfriend standing less than two feet away.
Another friend, Ms C, said that she had been at a wedding with her husband when a very drunk woman (who was accompanied by her partner) grabbed Ms C's husband's face, shoved it between her breasts, and went, "Brrrrrr!" while shaking her upper body from side to side.
What is one to do in these situations? Do we really believe that women should stick together? And how can we, with stories like these?
Personally, as a veteran of four years of boarding school, I don't believe in the sisterhood.
There are a couple of girls that I would gleefully push into the La Brea tar pits, but still, I would never contemplate laying hands on their partners.
I don't think it's about solidarity, female or otherwise. I know males and females, singly and in groups, who are honourable, deceitful, nice or nasty.
I think it's about respect. Respect for yourself, your partner, and other people.
Do you have a story of your own, dear readers? Do you agree or disagree, or have a different perspective that might shed some light on the matter? Comments are free, so go for it.