Achtung Baby! – Track #4

One of my happily married friends has the hots for another man.

I know you’re thinking,

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You have friends?”

But seriously folks.

This came as quite a shock. I thought only unhappily married people felt the urge to stray. This married friend, let’s call her Emma, isn’t bored, frustrated or even looking for some strange.

What’s the deal? That’s what Emma would like to know.

She says she won’t act on her feelings and I believe her. First of all, she’s fairly religious and believes that “to forsake all others as long as you both shall live” was a vow made before God and the world. She’s a woman of her word. She also loves her husband and can’t imagine lying naked with anyone else.

Still. It’s freaking her out. This is the first time since her wedding several years ago that she is thinking, dreaming, fantasizing about someone other than her husband or Brad Pitt.

“If I were single, he’s not the type I’d even go after,” she told me one afternoon over drinks.

(Okay, I don’t drink in the afternoon unless it’s alone, in my closet, while on the verge of a nervous breakdown. But I don’t want to give her away. Or piss her off.)

“This is the other man we’re talking about, huh?” I asked. “Why isn’t he your type?”

“I like the Red Sox, he loves the Yankees.”

“Say no more.”

“Seriously, he doesn’t even go to church. He has a wife of his own. He’s grumpy and yells at the television when his team loses. Scares the shit out of his dog.”

“Something must get you all hot and bothered.”

“He’s smart and funny.”

“Now we’re getting to it.”

“We have some intense conversations and connect, that’s all I know. I try to keep my distance but it’s hard. He has a wonderful smile and turns me on. I’m an awful woman!”

I said the obligatory, “No you’re not” while wishing I knew an old, married woman who might be of help to her guilty conscience. Then I remembered I’m an old married woman.

“I worked with this guy in Boston,” I said, “who was happily married, sensitive and sweet. He and his wife even adopted a Chinese baby. I liked him for all those reasons and the fact that he resembled Greg Brady during the Hawaii years. His last name was actually Dangler, I kid you not. Anyhoo, we would discuss all kinds of personal matters and he’d talk about sex dreams featuring co-workers, including me, in starring roles. A few times, I thought about him in the biblical sense. Turned out it was just a phase and eventually passed. I’m sure this will pass, too.”

Long pause.

“That’s your big advice?” Emma asked.

“Emma, don’t be a bitch,” I said. “My point is this: It’s okay to drool over men you are not married to, whether it’s Brad Pitt (yuck), Jason Lee (yummy) or a guy at work. You can’t commit adultery with your heart or head, okay? No matter what Jimmy Carter says.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, still not sold on the idea.

“Would you be angry if your husband pretended he was f*cking Angelina Jolie instead of you every once in a while?”

“I guess not.”

“What if he flirted with his new secretary and it made him feel attractive and desirable? Is that so bad?”

“No…”

“Feelings aren’t right or wrong as long as you behave yourself. Not every infatuation has to turn into an Adrian Lyne film.”

Emma sighed. I continued.

“Relationships aren’t impressive while the skies are sunny and neither is fidelity without temptation. It’s good to meet someone who stirs up your juices because it shows you have strength not to tear off his clothes and go at it right there no matter how much you’d like to. So don’t worry and enjoy the fantasy while it lasts.”

Emma smiled.

Can I hear married people in the house say, “Amen”?