Jack caught up with me at the usual watering hole. It wasn’t the classiest of joints, but the drinks were stiff and it didn’t cost an arm or a leg to get juiced. As an added bonus, none of my nightclub regulars frequented the place. I could drink anonymously, without distraction. “How was your trip?” I asked.

“I could have used about three more days.” Jack handed me a bundle of hundred dollar bills. It was repayment for a loan I gave him before he left. His wife handled the household finances, and he didn’t want her questioning him about an excessive cash withdrawal from their joint account.

Part of the reason for Jack’s trip was to debauch as many women possible, no strings attached. After ten years of marriage and three kids, he lost all sexual interest in his wife. His adulterous out-of-state trip was just what the doctor ordered–a release for his pent-up sexual frustrations. “It was fun,” Jack continued. “But, well, I don’t know.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Jack was not completely satiated. Evidently, the trip wasn’t everything that it was cracked up to be. I pulled on my cigarette, expelled the smoke through my nostrils while I took another gulp of scotch. “But what?” I asked, chewing an ice cube.

“Well, it’s just that I didn’t even get the names of most of the girls.”

Quizzically, I raised an eyebrow. “Why the hell does that matter?”

“I guess it would have been nice to date some of them. You know, get to know them a little bit.”

Unbelievable. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I hate to break it to you, Jack, but you’re not making any sense,” I said. “You skipped town to get laid. Mission accomplished, multiple times. Now you want girlfriends on the side? Why? So they can call your house from time to time and say ‘Hello’ to your wife?”

Jack played that scenario out in his head. Too many guys we both knew were already there. The outcome was always the same: a divorce, after which the ex-wife takes the man to the cleaner. The moral of the story for the unhappily married man? If you want to screw around, do it discreetly. It’s cheaper to keep her.

“I know what you’re saying,” Jack told me. “But you don’t understand.”

“And I never will, because I learn from guys like you.” With a chuckle, I slapped Jack’s shoulder, finished my drink, crushed my butt in an ashtray. I paid my tab while saying my goodbyes and headed out the door. I had a date with one of my nightclub regulars, Tracy. As ditsy as she was, she was more fun to be around than an unhappily married man.

Tags: adultery · marriage · sex