peoples is peoples.

"So. Of the men at work, who do you think is cheating on his wife?"

I'm at lunch with Jean, the receptionist. She's been having a rough week and declared earlier that she was in full man-hating mode. I'm not much of a man-hater. I've been pissed off at at some man or another many, many times, but I've never really been able to transfer that anger into hating the gender as a whole. Me, I'm still very much in favor of men. Like ice cream and flannel sheets and the sun, men were a good idea. There are good men out there and awful women. Like a Greek man once told Kermit the Frog, "Peoples is peoples."

But Jean's husband is in the doghouse for something, I don't ask what, because I don't want to pry and also because I know I'm not always very good at sympathy. I don't know Jean all that well, and truth be told, I'm afraid that I'll agree with her husband. And so even if I can't be a good man-hater for Jean, I am a girl, and a good girly talk would probably do her good. A strong margarita wouldn't hurt, either. But now she's asked me about the fidelity of the men we work with, and I'm just not sure what to say. I know these men have wives, and I know they have children, but I don't really think of them as sexual beings. It makes them easier to work with.

"Uhh...I don't really know. I'm probably naive, but I tend to assume that everyone is just being a good person unless I hear differently."

"Oh, of course, I do, too. But I answer the phones all day, and I know who is getting calls from other women."

"Well, some of the guys, I dunno, they give me the impression that they had a hard enough time getting someone to marry them in the first place." It's not that the men I work with are repulsive, but, well, they're dorks. They're smart and like computers a lot and are shy. Those things don't add up to having a lot of chicks knocking at their doors.

"Yeah, that's true of some of them. But not all. Some of them have women calling them all the time and not their wives."

"Maybe their mothers?" I'm hopeful. I was happy thinking that the men were all faithful, even the one or two whose morals I would question otherwise. Sure, they all complain about their wives from time to time, but mostly in a trivial way. You know, the have to call the little woman and ask if it's okay to go out for a beer after work kind of way.

"Yeah, right."

"These women call them at work? Why don't the guys tell them to use the backdoor number?" We have a backdoor number that will patch you through to an automated system. If you know the person's extension, you can call him/her directly rather than speak to Jean.

"Because men are stupid."

"I guess." Or maybe men just don't realize that the receptionist would ever take note of these things because they themselves wouldn't. Or maybe they don't feel like they have anything to hide from Jean. Despite my better nature, I start to half-envy Jean's position of power and her ability to get these tiny glimpses into our coworkers' personal lives.

"Do you think Jake runs around on his wife?"

I don't know how to answer these questions. There was really no one who I thought cheated on his spouse before this conversation, and I'm more than a little distraught to have my mental image of everyone's home lives turned upside down. I really don't think Jake cheats on his wife. But what do I know? Maybe he gets lots of phone calls.

"I don't really think so."

"Yeah, I don't either." Relief washes over me. I like Jake a lot, and I think he's overall a good person. Jean continues, "You know who gets a lot of calls? Ben."

"What?" I am shocked. I don't know Ben's wife or much about his home life, but I do know that he's very sweet and helpful, always cheerful even when I know he's tired and frustrated.

"Yup. Same woman, who is not his wife, calls him three, four times a day."

"But he's so nice!" Nice doesn't mean good, I know that. I still feel disillusioned.

"His wife is a little psycho. Bizarre. She suspects him, too."

"How do you know?"

"She calls and asks me if other women have been calling him. She asks where he is if he's not answering his phone."

"What do you say?"

"I tell him he gets business calls, which is true. And if I know he's out somewhere work-related, I tell her. If I don't know where he is, I just say that I don't know."

"Yeah." That makes sense. I'd do the same if I were her. I suddenly don't envy her position anymore.

"So my top three cheaters would be...well, there's Don, of course, but that's a given."

"Yeah, probably." No one much likes Don. He's not a nice person and I don't work with him all that much, so I have no trouble questioning his fidelity. "I imagine his wife is doing the same." For some reason, I feel the need to point out that women aren't always so innocent, too.

"Yeah, well, probably. But there's Ben, Matt, and Tom. That's my top three."

"Matt?" Crap, I like Matt a lot, too.

"If he's not cheating now, he has in the past. Oh, and Richard."

"Richard? I'm not sure about that."

"His wife is a, well, she wears the pants."

"Some men like that." I'm starting to doubt Jean now. Phone calls are one thing (and even that can be a little sketchy as evidence), but suspecting a man of infidelity just because she doesn't care for his wife? Given the right husband, I might someday be accused of wearing the pants. And I know she's hardly rooting for the males right now.

"Well, I guess. But definitely Tom."

"He doesn't seem to like his wife all that much," I sigh, because I think she is probably right. Everyone complains about his spouse, but Tom means his complaints just a little too much. Tom's always been a good guy to me, but even I can't really defend him here.

"He doesn't."

"I don't like to think of those guys this way."

"Men are stupid. I've been trying to watch them and notice their behavior so that I can recognize it if I ever see it in my husband."

"Yeah," I say without enthusiasm. Man-hating seems to be a draining activity.

The rest of the lunch conversation continues without incident, more gossip, but my mood is affected for the rest of the day. I feel conflicted by my impressions of these men, who are all very pleasant and have fun personalities, but may just be lousy cheaters in the end. In fact, I begin to worry why it is they're all so nice to me, though none of them have ever done or said anything inappropriate in that regard. I want reassurance, I want to talk this all over with someone else who knows these people, but it's not like I can tell any of them that Jean is monitoring their phone calls.

I can't be a man-hater, because I know that there are good men out there - I've met them. There are scummy women out there, too, but not even Jean has given up on being friends with females altogether, though no one probably sees how badly women can behave more than other women. No one gender has cornered the market on adultery. And maybe there are some dirty philanderers that walk the halls with me, but it's none of my concern. I can't let a woman who is mad at one man ruin my perspective on all the others. They're just people. Peoples is peoples.