On Saturday, while Peggy was shopping at Greetings and Readings, I perched myself on a chair in their cafe area and leafed through the latest Esquire magazine. I was interested in a article entitled "Why Men Cheat," because I don't do that, and I always love to see the crazy justifications that guys come up with. Whoever wrote this article stayed anonymous, and with logic such as he demonstrates, perhaps that's best.
First thing he says is, he cheats because it helps him remember. " Infidelity makes me remember things." Try to follow his logic there, and you can't. He says that the little details of his life just melt away when he glimpses the naked spine of his latest conquest in some motel room. So, dude, you just said it helped you remember stuff, and now you get all worked up over her spine and forget stuff.
Spine. Got to say this, I have heard men discuss women all my life, and this is the first time I have heard anyone ever say, "I'm a spine man!" Or maybe it's because you envy in her what you lack in yourself... a little spine, and a little rigidity in your bearing.
Then he goes on with the usual bushwah about how he cheats, not because he can, but because he must - it's in his blood, you see. And also, he really really really loves women. Well so do I, but no so much that I have to take them to motels and have a midafternoon shag-a-rama.
He also says that cheating is fun, that it's often justified because the wife is not all she seemed to be before they got married (and he is, right?) and also he gallantly points out that he has gotten horizontal with unattractive overweight women. So that's it - he is performing a public service, and should get some sort of award at next year's Community Service banquet.
Mr Anonymous and all of you who find comfort in your poorly-reasoned defense of what you do: for your inflammation, I would like you to think of a married state in which each mate just can't wait to share every morsel of life with the other. I know I am lucky to have the greatest wife on this earth to come home to every night. The best thing that I can do, is to make sure that everything I do every afternoon is something that wouldn't make her cry, should she find about it. Try living your life for someone else for a change, Anonymous, and put your little toy away for a while, be my advice.
But then, Esquire wouldn't sell too many magazines with advice such as mine.