...or, what's behind curtain number three!
Tuesday, June 7, 1:30pm
Steve's office
"Hello."
"Twinkie." It's Chris. His voice is heavy, as if he's just heard bad news.
"What's wrong, man? Don't tell me Janet found out!"
"She didn't. I did it just the way you said. She didn't ask, and I didn't tell."
"So what's wrong?"
"Everything."
"What's everything?"
"I don't know what I'm gonna do anymore, man." His voice is breaking.
"What do you mean?"
"She's such a fucking BITCH. I can't take this shit anymore."
"WHAT shit?"
"She doesn't.... she's not.... she won't............."
"What, she won't have sex with you?"
"Bingo."
"Oh shit, man. Hey, where are you?"
"I'm on my lunch break. I'm driving."
"Ahh. So, I mean, how long has it...."
"The last time was Christmas morning."
"WHAT!!!!???"
"Don't fucking rub it in, man."
I'm speechless. I expected to hear a month, maybe two. But this is fucking CRAZY!
"Well, maybe she's got something... wrong down there."
"She had a physical two months ago, no problems."
"Just out of curiosity, when was the last time before Christmas?"
"I started keeping a diary in July. I got it twice in July, once in September and once in October."
"You've gotta be kidding me!"
"I wish I was."
"Have you tried therapy?"
"She won't go. She freaks every time I mention it."
"And when you try to talk to her-"
"She just says she doesn't know what's wrong. She can't explain it, she has no idea why. She says she feels numb."
"Chris, man, I'm sorry."
He sighs. "Me too." There's a long pause.
I never liked Janet very much. I have no problem believing that she'd turn ice cold and padlock her snatch like this.
"I don't know what the hell to do, Steve."
"I'm gonna say something, and don't take this the wrong way."
"OK."
"Don't keep cheating. It's not you. It's not going to solve anything. I know why you did it, and I would have done it a HELL of a lot faster than you did. But I think you love her, and if you really want to make it work-"
"I DO love her."
"So give her an ultimatum: Therapy or divorce."
