Monday nights

I’m bored and restless and tired of working around the house, and my boyfriend is at his apartment packing and cleaning. I keep wanting to call my sister, but I can’t because it’s Monday night.

No, Sis doesn’t watch Monday night football. Monday night is the one night that her ex-husband takes their daughter to visit overnight at his place (well, his mom’s place, since he lives with his mom). It’s my sister’s one night off.
Sometimes she goes to the movies, sometimes she tries to do household chores that are easier without a three-year-old around, and sometimes she just vegetates on the sofa. Perhaps she watches grown-up TV instead of Elmo and Annie and Eloise, or reads a book without pictures in it.
But lately my sister has been looking forward to Monday nights even more so than usual, because she gets to spend them with her new friend. Or as she likes to call him, her Friend With Benefits.
I am pleased that my sister has found some, er, benefits to improve her life. Her self-esteem took a big dive during/after the marriage and she felt certain that no one was ever going to find her attractive again. Admittedly single moms do have a difficult time finding dates. Some of her friends tried to set her up, but always with guys who reminded her depressingly of her ex-husband. My sister made the strange but understandable decree that she didn’t want to date anyone without a four-year degree, because she was tired of dealing with blue-collar rednecks talking about their most recent hunting and fishing trips.
So she finally found a nice friend, and while she’s not particularly interested in dating him seriously, she’s enjoying her Monday nights. That’s the only night they can really spend any time together.
I have to say that the whole situation has been somewhat amusing from my point of view. She’s called me a million times, starting with questions about what to do and when, and giving me more background than I needed on the guy, and asking me which movie they should see (School of Rock apparently did the trick, and I was the one who advised they see it). Of course, this is very reminiscent of my calling her in early July to ask whether she thought a particular evening with a certain man would count as a date, and if it was a quasi-date, what I ought to wear, and how could I let him know subtly that I was hoping it would be a date, anyway? Now the tables are turned.
She called me at work one day to ask me where to buy condoms, and what kind to buy, because apparently her ex-husband used to take care of that sort of thing. Plus, she’s a teacher and she didn’t want any of her students seeing her buy condoms. It is very difficult to give someone condom advice when you work in an open office environment and you don’t want your coworkers to know what you are discussing.
I think that someone needs to hold seminars for women in How To Buy Condoms. Seriously. Because we don’t know, and then we let the guys do it, or we assume they’ll have some and when they don’t, we just let it ride (well, I don’t, but I’m sure some women do). There’s a real niche market here for half-day seminars with field trips where the instructor leads a group of women to the drugstore, or the convenience store, or even Whole Foods (if you have latex allergies) and make everyone take turns picking out and buying condoms. I was very inexperienced in the whole matter until I started dating my current boyfriend. Now we’re comparing brands together and checking stores for the cheapest prices and so forth.
Sis did manage to find a convenience store where no one knew her and bought a supply of condoms, sparking another discussion about where she should keep them since she wouldn’t want her daughter or any other visitors to find them. My niece would probably use them for Barbie sleeping bags.
I have the sneaking suspicion that the whole Friends with Benefits situation might not end well for my sister, for various reasons related to their specific situation. I certainly haven’t said that to her, I am nothing but positive. She should enjoy herself because she doesn’t get to enjoy herself very often. She has a terrible time getting her ex-husband to agree to visits with their daughter because he works odd hours on a constantly changing work schedule (funny how he is always working, getting ready for work, or recovering from work on Friday and Saturday nights). She doesn’t have many close friends right now, since her best friend sided with the ex-husband during the divorce. She rarely gets to spend time with grown-ups her age without any kids around.
All she has are Monday nights. In comparison, I feel incredibly wealthy. Suddenly I’m not nearly so bored and restless, just fortunate.