Of Husbands and Other Men
A reader writes:
Dear Gin & Gentility,
Many years ago I was in love with a fascinating man who didn’t realise I was actually married; I didn’t mean to keep it from him. It just slipped my mind. We lived together in Paris for several months and had a great time. He was the best lover I’d ever had, very inventive in bed, very exciting.
I recently ran across this guy again in a…certain vacation spot…yes, that’s it, a vacation spot…that my husband and I were visiting. This man was very rude to me and, although I tried to explain to him, he didn’t want to hear it. Instead, he kept drinking whisky and listening to sad piano music.
Is it too late to repair the damage I have done? Can we ever get back what we had in Paris?
A Fascinating Lady
PS: My husband is a bit of a dolt and doesn’t know. All he cares about is his “work.” I use the term loosely.
Dear Fascinating Lady,
Miss Verity understands all too well how minute details, such as being married, can so easily slip one’s mind when one is frantically busy doing other things, particularly in Paris.
She herself once forgot her husband’s name just as she was introducing him, and you can imagine how this distressed her, because Miss Verity takes very seriously her moral duty to perform introductions correctly. She eventually solved the problem with a nifty little divorce, and encourages you to do the same. This will free up even more of your husband’s time to devote to his putative “work,” which shows a nice degree of consideration for him, and will leave you better able to pursue your own hobbies and friendships.
She does strongly urge you to find friends with less alarming vices, however. Rude whiskey drinking men have their charms, but sad piano music is, she is told, something of a gateway drug.
It’s also worth bearing in mind that often gentlemen appear more interesting than they really are, having been lent a certain air of dash and intrigue by their inaccessibility. Don’t, dear reader, rush to commit to this fascinating man of yours. You may well think you’re getting an anti-hero, only to find yourself tied to some dreary bean-counter.
Monsieur Gendarme said,
February 18, 2008 at 5:08 pm
How very wise, Miss Verity, and how very true. I would add, that if “Fascinating Lady” cannot leave well enough alone and stop tormenting the man whose heart she so callously broke in Paris, then perhaps she and her esteemed husband could set up housekeeping in another part of the planet.
To Fascinating Lady I have only this to say: You’ve done enough damage, my dear. Leave the poor man alone, won’t you?