A year ago, a friend shared a story with me about his fifteen-year-old daughter. Let’s call her Jean. While on a date at a movie, Jean looked to her right and saw a girl five seats away performing oral sex on her date (the girl’s date, not Jean’s date). For this story, we will call the second girl Crystal. When Crystal noticed Jean looking at her, not only did she not stop her endeavor, but she intentionally held eye contact with the agog Jean and continued her task. 

After sharing this story with me as part of our bi-annual family catch-up, my friend treated it as a passing comment, like, yeah, oh, this thing happened to Jean. It looks like we may not know one another as well as I thought we did. The flurry of arrows that left my quiver of questions reminded him who he was talking to. Curious how many questions he could answer? Zero. 

This meant when I visited his town six months later and dined with his family, what happened over dinner was inevitable (and his fault, not mine). Let this be a lesson to us all. You can either ask the questions yourself, uncomfortable as they may seem, or you can have me ask them at your family dinner table. 

I will spare the world the full transcript and only share the critical (e.g., my favorite) details of the story. 

The name of the theater was the Sun Valley 14. I’m not sure why that seems so perfect to me, but it does as if it was intentionally borrowed from Beaver’s Mayfield or Truman's Seahaven. 

The movie being watched, to varying degrees by the audience, was Fly Me to the Moon, a film about faking the moon landing. I've not seen it, but Jean suggests I save my seven bucks. It is perhaps this tepid review that explains how this situation arose (yes, I see that) in the first place. 

The question Jean wishes she could ask Crystal if given the chance. A good bit after this unexpected moment took place, Crystal excused herself during the movie, heading to the restroom or snack bar. She could have exited cleanly from her side of the row as there were no people blocking her in. Instead, she chose to cross the full aisle, exiting out of Jean’s side and needing to apologetically pass by Jean and her date. Such a solid question and observation, Jean. I too wish I could ask Crystal that question. 

My favorite comment in the retelling. To the question, if they were around the same age as her (Jean). She said, “No. They looked like they were old enough to have had a place they could have done that in private which made it all even more confusing.” 

Later on that same visit, I spent some time with my friend’s mother.  While together, I learned tons about her youth and early married life, all of which was super interesting. After leaving, I asked my friend why he had never shared any of that about his parents with me. His response: It wasn’t my story to share. 

I guess I will add this phrase, “It wasn’t my story to share,” right next to “Too much information” in my box of things that do not apply to Troy.