ORBITER (noun)

1. A man who accepts the proposal to “just be friends” from a girl he wants. He will stick around her and constantly validate her whenever she requests it; also known as “friend zone”. She will keep him around because he will do anything for her and provide validation, giving small hints that he will eventually win her love – but he never will. Go – to Guy when she has problems with her boyfriend. Also known as an Emotional Tampon.

PLATE THEORY, or PLATER (noun) (“keep spinning plates”)

1. Gaming multiple women simultaneously to boost one’s sexual market value.

The conversation with Glen about his ex and her orbiters really got me thinking. I knew exactly what he meant, because I know both men and women who keep and are Orbiters.  Having one and being one are equally as convenient.  Right?  The men stay within reach with the hope that she’ll suddenly realize she really does love him after all, (never going to happen) so he pours his heart and resources into this woman, hoping to feel a tug on the end of that line he keeps casting into her waters. The woman keeps her Orbiters within reach because she needs that ego stroke, validation (of beauty, sexiness, value, etc) and he’s also the Go – to Guy for money, rides, dinners and toxic emotional spill clean up. Pretty cruel, selfish, heartless and just bad.

What a bitch! Poor guy!! Now, wait a minute. What about the Plate Theory, or the Plater? You know who he is, because you know one personally.  We all do.  Mr. Plate Spinner has a phone full of women; numbers, texts and his gallery is full of selfies from women he likes to graze upon when he’s bored or when the woman of his choice isn’t available. Because I’ve got news: she’s out catting around, too, and he’s chasing her and she’s chasing somebody else. They’re both losers. But these people find trouble when they have a “girlfriend” or “boyfriend” that they lie to, in order to keep that orbiting – plate spinning lifestyle. These “significant others” are always in the dark and believe they’re in a committed relationship … but, from personal experience, I have always seen the signs, but chose to reason them away, like almost everyone does.

Among the many signs are flipping the phone face down, keeping the phone on them at all times, keeping the phone on silent (so it doesn’t even vibrate) taking a picture with you but not letting you see it right away or turning away when they retrieve it from the gallery because they’re not sure who else in the gallery.  More signs are last minute change of plans with weird excuses (because someone better suddenly became available and you’re dismissed), being unable to reach them for a day or more, keeping you away from certain friends who might slip up and spill their double life, new sexual things, being kissed “differently”, unusual grooming of themselves, it goes on and on … finding items that aren’t yours and then being convinced that they are yours, or they belong to their sister/brother/mom/dad/in-law … you get the idea. Over the years with my cheater, I’ve found clothes, tampons, hair bands, lipstick, tweezers, and other things, too. When I found the tweezers in his vacation house bathroom, I said to him, “Who’s are these?” He furrowed his eyebrows, tilted his head, and said, “They’re yours, hun. There hasn’t been a woman here in years.” But I argued, ” … these aren’t mine. I don’t use Lancome stuff. These are part of a set … Comes with makeup and a bag and …” “Oh, yeah. I had a splinter so I had to get tweezers,” He said. “No, these are from a set, you couldn’t have bought these outside of a make up counter at the mall … ” “Awesome. Great, Shannon. Let’s ruin a perfectly good weekend because you want to accuse me of cheating. If you’re going to accuse me, I’ll just go out and do it. Why not? You’re pushing me into it!” (and that conversation is nearly verbatim)

Terrified of “causing him to cheat” or “pushing him into it”, I apologized, retreated and shut my mouth. How clever was he. And, by the way, it was revealed not too long thereafter, that he did indeed have a very special woman there, in fact, and was seeing her off and on for a couple of years right along side of me, and this is the woman that would end us. It was off and on because she used him and threw him a crumb when she needed money, dinners, stroking, or attention. He was so crazy about her that he ignored all of her red flags, and crawled after her every single time she reappeared in this life, sacrificing me. It was the thrill of the chase for him, and the whoreness of her. Lose – Lose. I don’t know whatever happened to either of them, though I’m sure he is still longing for her and her stale crumbs.

But he’s a jerk!! He lied to you, Shannon! Well, no. I wasn’t a 13 yr old girl; I was a grown woman, and I, like you, like everyone with their own stories of cheaters, knew he was lying. I chose to squeeze my eyes shut and ignore the signs. But why? Why do we do that? Women do it, men do it, we all do it. Are we all so afraid of the actual break up? Yes. At least for me, yes. I would rather have ignored the signs and fought like hell to win his heart, then walk away with dignity. I chose to be one of his side pieces, like the orbiter guys who hope and hope that she will eventually love him. It never works.

John and I were getting ready to go out, one night, and we stood side by side in front of the mirror; he was shaving and I was lining my eyes. “Baby,” I said, “Glen mentioned dumping that ex because, among other things, she had an orbiter,” “Yeah,” John answered. “So,” I continued, “Why do men do that? And why do men keep a trove of broads in their phones, secret from each other? What’s that about??” John ran his razor under the running fawcet and tapped it against the sink. “Sex,” he answered. “The orbiter wants eventual sex and the other guy wants a variety and a lot of sex. Shannon, again … at the end of the day, men want sex. That’s it. It drives us and though nowadays men are too are afraid to admit it,” (and he rolled his eyes) “It still remains to be true.” I shook my head as I dug through my make up bag. “Shannon, you have girlfriends who do the same things, and behave the same way. Only they give sex to the rotating dudes in her phone in exchange for validation, while the guys give validation to the rotation girls in his phone, in exchange for sex. Everyone gets what they want.” “Hmmm,” I said. He shrugged. ” … since the beginning of time,” he said. John stood behind me, and reached around me and placed both hands on my boobs, as he always does. “Mine.” he said. “Ready?” “Ready,” I answered. He walked into his adjoining bedroom and shrugged on his long coat. I watched him grab his wallet his phone and his keys, and I wondered, is it really that cut and dried? Are people really that detached from moral responsibility, where we just juggle people around until someone clicks? Exchanging sex for validation and validation for sex? And actually, every man I’ve ever been with has cheated on me. So, it must be me, right? … right??

This is the Red Pill. To be continued …