4 September 2010

Affair Practicalities

A couple more responses on the marital dating website, both unsatisfactory. One from someone who in two short sentences managed to convey fencepost stupidness.

Another from a woman who seemed in shock at her husband’s infidelity, using the website as a means of revenge, hey lady, direct your anger at him not me. If I do have an affair it needs to be centered on the two of us, not overshadowed by the ghostly presence of a spouse.

But a deeper disillusionment setting in. The women on the website seem to be playing at it, passing an idle hour bending the ear of some supplicant, like a free therapy session. Can’t imagine it would be much fun actually to meet up.

Besides, if you did, and by some miracle it turned out there was the requisite spark, what then? Agree further dates? Go to a movie? Go to Paris for the day? The weekend? But then what?

Jump into bed? But where? Her place? Dodging her husband, leaving my imprint all over her space and his? Feels tawdry to me. My place? Were my wife to discover that, it would traverse a boundary more profound somehow than that crossed by the mere mingling of flesh. Her sanctum violated. From there, no return. Not just me, but also her world, contaminated. A transgression in some distant place, more easily fended off or excused, more open to healing.

So where? A hotel? It would have to be a good one, not budget accommodation for traveling businessmen, a cheap tiny box, polyester sheets, traffic roaring outside.

So, dinner, champagne, hotel room. Cost, about three or four hundred pounds. Then the next time, same again.

And if it really works between you, how does that play out? Nine o’clock at night, sudden text messages, finding explanations to my wife for going outside so I can make phonecalls. Too furtive and too arousing of suspicion.

I need to think this out again.