Husband’s Impending Affair

So this happened a couple of weeks ago:

Husband and I were at a party, and like all parties, we tend to separate and not stay glued to each other’s sides like other annoying couples. Seriously – what is WITH those couples who go to parties only to hang out with each other? Don’t you get enough of that shit at home? If you wanted to just hang with each other, WHY did you bother coming to the party at all?

Sheesh.

Anywho – so there we were mingling, me hanging out in the kitchen because that is where the food and vodka is, and him out in the lounge room chatting to a group of girls. I was a happy beaver because I had dumplings, meat and alcohol within my disposal and was busy bitching about all the fat people at the party. Before you know it, hours had passed and I had not heard one peep from Husband.

I curiously poked my head out of the kitchen to see what was up – Husband was still talking to one of the girls in his little group. I quickly ran my eyes over her boring outfit, all the way up to her equally unmemorable face, and decided that it really wasn’t worth the trouble to go and introduce myself.

I hibernate back into the kitchen, chatting with my girlfriends and polishing off half a bottle of vodka.

About 40 minutes later, while I was helping my girlfriend clear the table, I notice Husband and this average looking girl STILL engaging in some deep conversation, so I thought I would finally go over and introduce myself. I approached Husband and girl who we will call Ann because that is her name and I am not good at thinking of a fake name that sounds like Ann. Maybe Pam? Sam? Fran? Oh dammit – Fran would have totally worked! Anyways.

Me:        Oh Hi. What have you guys been talking about over here for so long?

Husb:    Oh hey – we’ve just been talking about work and stuff. This is my wife.

Me:        Hi – I’m Julie.

Girl:        I’m Ann.

Me:        Nice to meet you – so what about work were you discussing?

Ann:      Oh we were talking about my work, and how I’ve just quit my job because it really wasn’t challenging me and I found the people there to be a little frustrating and blah blah blah blah…

Me:        Zzzzzzz…

Dude – she was talking at me for like 10 entire minutes and it was so boring. I had to concentrate on how plainly plain her face was, and asking myself – why doesn’t she wear any make-up? Man, I swear if she switched out those thick glasses with contacts, swiped on a couple of coats of mascara and a slick of lip-gloss, she could actually be okay looking. Oh wait – she stopped talking. It’s my turn to talk. Dammit…what to do what to do? I haven’t been listening to anything she has been saying…

So, I did what any Mean Girl would do – picked an item of clothing that I hated and immediately compliment her on it:

Me:        Oh – that’s fascinating. Say – that is a GORGEOUS necklace! Why I’ve never seen anything so special! Wherever did you get it?

Argh, her necklace was so fugly I wouldn’t even wear it to my own funeral.

Ann:      Oh thanks! Actually, a really good friend gave it to me – in fact, there is a story behind this necklace.

Of course there is.

Me:        Well – I’m sure my Husband would love to hear it, but please excuse me for one second – I need to refresh my drink.

I peaced the fuck out of that conversation and retreated back to the kitchen to bitch to my friends about the last 20 minutes of my life which I will never get back.

3 or 4 more drinks later, Husband enters the kitchen:

Me:        Dude – wtf was that about?

Husb:    What do you mean?

Me:        How could you have been stuck in that conversation with that girl for hours? Didn’t she bore you to death?

Husb:    Actually – she wasn’t that bad.

Me:        Seriously – if you are going to hit on someone at a party, can you at least hit on an attractive girl? Hitting on an average looking girl really reflects badly on me.

Husb:    What? What does that even mean? Anyway I wasn’t hitting on her!

Me:        Alrighty – but she looked like she wanted to suck your cock.

Husb:    Well, she did ask me for my contact details…

Me:        See? She wants to fuck you.

Husb:    Whatever – you’re drunk. Let’s go home.

The next morning, I woke up slightly hungover, but I wasn’t about to give this up just yet:

Me:        Morning babe.

Husb:    Morning.

Me:        Did you have a nice sleep?

Husb:    Sure.

Me:        Was it nice because you were dreaming about Ann?

Husb:    What? Shut up – I can’t believe you are jealous. You’re never jealous.

Me:        I’m so NOT jealous. Actually, fine, I might be a little jealous, but I’m mostly mad.

Husb:    Why are you mad?

Me:        Because she wasn’t attractive! If you’re going to invest time picking up a girl, at least make a hot girl! You know how much I enjoy hot women!

Husb:    You’re fucking nuts. I wasn’t picking her up.

Me:        Look, I just want to put this out there – if you’re going to have an affair, it’ll make me feel much better if it was with someone hot. Don’t waste it on an Ann.

Husb:    Dude – for sure. If I was going to have an affair, it’ll be with someone so hot that even you would want to fuck her.

Me:        Aw – that’s sweet babe. Anyways – I bet you Ann’s going to email you.

Husb:    No she won’t.

The next day, what do you think happens?

Husband gets an email from Ann.

She wants to know the name of the bourbon bar Husband frequents.

Why would that be?

Maybe so she can ‘accidently’ bump into him at the bar…

Ann/Fran – whatever your name is: if you are reading this, please take my advice: Put in some contacts, throw on some lip-gloss and a bit of mascara before you meet my Husband. Don’t embarrass me by showing up being your dowdy self.

XOXO,

TW