Playing Favorites

Summary

Four older women, Teresa, Pam, Jane, and Cindy, share a dance partner, Ben, at the "Olde-Tymer Tavern," with Cindy being the preferred partner when she arrives, leading to a mix of humor and generosity among the women despite the slight.

Abstract

The narrative revolves around a group of women in their seventies who enjoy dancing at a local tavern with Ben, a fellow septuagenarian. The dynamic shifts upon Cindy's arrival, as Ben, who is married but available for dancing, clearly favors her. The other women, Teresa, Pam, and Jane, good-naturedly tease Cindy about being the favorite, even as they are momentarily sidelined. Cindy, who arrives later than the others, tries to include them in dances and showers them with beauty products to make amends for the attention she receives from Ben. Despite the undercurrent of favoritism, the women maintain a friendly atmosphere, highlighting their camaraderie and mutual understanding of each other's loneliness.

Opinions

Teresa, Pam, and Jane find humor in being temporarily replaced by Cindy in Ben's attention, indicating a light-hearted acceptance of the situation.
Cindy feels a sense of guilt for being the favorite and tries to mitigate this by sharing beauty products with the other women, suggesting a desire to maintain harmony and friendship.
The women seem to genuinely care for each other, as evidenced by their lack of genuine jealousy and their focus on the enjoyment of the dance rather than competition for Ben's attention.
Cindy acknowledges her loneliness and the importance of Ben's companionship, which motivates her actions and explains her reluctance to give up her dance time with him.
The narrative conveys a sense of nostalgia and the value of social interactions in later life, as the characters find joy and connection in their shared dancing experience.

Teresa

It’s 10:25. I tell time by the hands of my human clock, aptly named “Big Ben.”

Ben — six-two and two-sixty — is my dance partner. We share him: Pam, Jane, and me. Ben swaps us suavely, each in her turn. Equal time to all.

Until 10:25. When she makes her entrance.

We call her Cindy-Rella. Belle of the ball. So to speak. “Olde-Tymer Tavern” is no ballroom and Cindy-just-turned-sixty is no belle. Just relative to the rest of us seventy-plenties. Double-seven Ben included.

Ben rules the four-by-four so-called floor. And The King wants Cindy-Rella for his Queen. When Ben spies Cindy he tenses, then abruptly releases my hand. Never so rude as to abandon me mid-dance, Ben — keeping one arm on my back — reaches his freed hand to clutch Cindy’s. As the song fades, Ben segues smoothly to Cindy’s arms.

She’s him for the duration. Pam, Jane, and I chuckle lightly about being cast aside for The Favorite. All in good fun — no reason to be jealous. Ben’s unavailable romance-wise, having a sickly wife at home.

We love Cindy. She’s a sweetheart; I say that in all sincerity. An esthetician, she showers us with samples. All sorts of fancy creams. You name it, Cindy’s got it.

And gives it. Generously, so, so generously, week after week. You can see why we adore her. Absolutely adore her.

The Witch.

Cindy

They say I’m the favorite, Theresa, Jane, and Pam. When I arrive, they joke about getting dumped now that Cindy’s on the scene.

Ben does tend to dance mostly with me — but I arrive two hours after the others, so I figure they’ve all had their share.

When they give Ben and me a bit of a ribbing, I try to laugh it off. The ladies don’t seem offended, really, just kind of kidding around. If right before me Ben had been dancing with, say, Theresa, and a fast song starts, I’ll beckon to Theresa to stay with us. She’ll just smile and go back to her table unless her friends pop up to join her.

Sometimes the transition seems to be a tad awkward. A couple of times Theresa was kind of abruptly shunted aside when I came in. Like last week. The song was barely over, and here she was — reasonably — anticipating the next when Ben announced that he wanted to dance with me.

Theresa pretended (?) to pout, then smiled and walked off the floor. I urged her to rejoin us knowing that she wouldn’t.

What I should have done was bow out gracefully myself. Make a beeline for the bathroom, leaving Theresa to dance with Ben.

But I didn’t. Forgive me, Theresa — Jane, and Pam — please forgive me my selfishness. I’m lonely too. Single, alone, nobody to dance with if not for Ben. And so, I atone by way of offerings of faux youth and beauty, which have long since passed all of us by.

Playing Favorites

Four lonely ladies, one lucky guy

Teresa

Cindy