Thursday, July 10, 2003
TWO TIMING GLAD HANDERS, Sex and Lies continued...
Bill told me how he discovered his wife's affair. It made me think he was a little slow on the up-take, but after some reflection I realized people see what they want to see in a relationship and they will deny the obvious if it doesn't suit their own purposes.
Bill was a good guy. Not the same type of good guy as Pete, but still a person who tried his best to live a decent life. He did nothing to excess. He drank socially. I never saw him drunk. He had three grown kids who loved him. He'd been a good dad. He was a graphic designer, not a great talent, but he was dependable and did what he said he would do. He had a good job, with a lot of responsibility at one of the most prestigious printing firms in Boston. He had a lovely deck house on a high point overlooking Glouscester Harbor. Evidently the wife got very little in the divorce settlement.
The story goes like this; Bill and his wife socialize with the minister of his wife's church and the minister's wife. Bill is not religious but his wife is into choir practice and attends regularly. The minister is also the leader of the choir. One night, on a double date, with the minister and the minister's wife, Bill is driving. Bill's wife sits next to him in the front seat, the minister and his wife sit in the back. They are on their way home and Bill glances down to see his wife with her right arm extended behind her, holding hands with the minister in the back seat. The minister's wife is oblivious. Bill says nothing until after they drop off their passengers and arrive home. Bill confronts his wife with the evidence. It triggers a series of events the culminates in her admiting to an affair and Bill's ultimate divorce. Bill's wife never remarries, and from what I saw, lived a very sorry life in a small studio apartment, alone. The minister moves, with his wife, out of town. Bill gets the house, the love of his kids and me.
Little does he know that about a year before I met him, I played a similar game with Robin and his long time (but never married) girl friend, J.. Robin and I had just started our torrid relationship. He had told me all about J. from the first night, so I felt informed. I was curious. A group of Boston artists had arranged a charter bus trip down to NYC to see the Picasso retrospective at the MOMA. It was the biggest, most exciting exhibition of Picasso's work to hit the USA EVER! It was a must see. I signed up as did Robin and he informed me that J. would be going too. On that morning we line up to get our tickets. I know Robin and J. will be together, I will be a single. Robin and I have started a passionate sexual relationship and J. is clueless. Robin spots me right off. We have some sly eye contact. I check out J. and am relieved. She is just a women. Not ugly not georgous, just a woman. During the course of the exhibition Robin keeps finding excuses to duck around corners and have contact with me. He mentions in particular the erotic, never before published Picasso drawings with the fish. I love his risk taking, that he would leave J. to make sure I knew that he was keeping an eye on me and that he would risk his relationship with her to do so. In the evening, on the chartered bus trip home, Robin and I held hands, surreptitiously all the way back to Boston.
Bill told me how he discovered his wife's affair. It made me think he was a little slow on the up-take, but after some reflection I realized people see what they want to see in a relationship and they will deny the obvious if it doesn't suit their own purposes.
Bill was a good guy. Not the same type of good guy as Pete, but still a person who tried his best to live a decent life. He did nothing to excess. He drank socially. I never saw him drunk. He had three grown kids who loved him. He'd been a good dad. He was a graphic designer, not a great talent, but he was dependable and did what he said he would do. He had a good job, with a lot of responsibility at one of the most prestigious printing firms in Boston. He had a lovely deck house on a high point overlooking Glouscester Harbor. Evidently the wife got very little in the divorce settlement.
The story goes like this; Bill and his wife socialize with the minister of his wife's church and the minister's wife. Bill is not religious but his wife is into choir practice and attends regularly. The minister is also the leader of the choir. One night, on a double date, with the minister and the minister's wife, Bill is driving. Bill's wife sits next to him in the front seat, the minister and his wife sit in the back. They are on their way home and Bill glances down to see his wife with her right arm extended behind her, holding hands with the minister in the back seat. The minister's wife is oblivious. Bill says nothing until after they drop off their passengers and arrive home. Bill confronts his wife with the evidence. It triggers a series of events the culminates in her admiting to an affair and Bill's ultimate divorce. Bill's wife never remarries, and from what I saw, lived a very sorry life in a small studio apartment, alone. The minister moves, with his wife, out of town. Bill gets the house, the love of his kids and me.
Little does he know that about a year before I met him, I played a similar game with Robin and his long time (but never married) girl friend, J.. Robin and I had just started our torrid relationship. He had told me all about J. from the first night, so I felt informed. I was curious. A group of Boston artists had arranged a charter bus trip down to NYC to see the Picasso retrospective at the MOMA. It was the biggest, most exciting exhibition of Picasso's work to hit the USA EVER! It was a must see. I signed up as did Robin and he informed me that J. would be going too. On that morning we line up to get our tickets. I know Robin and J. will be together, I will be a single. Robin and I have started a passionate sexual relationship and J. is clueless. Robin spots me right off. We have some sly eye contact. I check out J. and am relieved. She is just a women. Not ugly not georgous, just a woman. During the course of the exhibition Robin keeps finding excuses to duck around corners and have contact with me. He mentions in particular the erotic, never before published Picasso drawings with the fish. I love his risk taking, that he would leave J. to make sure I knew that he was keeping an eye on me and that he would risk his relationship with her to do so. In the evening, on the chartered bus trip home, Robin and I held hands, surreptitiously all the way back to Boston.
