I would love you to write about “What married men tell other women, to get them to join them in the affair.” Such as my wife doesn’t pay attention to me, we no longer have intimacy, we stay together for the kids, my wife is going through menopause , she no longer turns me on… blah… blah… blah.
I know a married woman who’s having an affair with a married man, and she thinks he’ll leave his wife for her. It’s very obvious to me that she’s just another number on his mistress list. Please write! I’d love to share that article with her.
Your enlightenment energies would be better spent informing the OW’s clueless chump, rather than trying to convince the OW she’s not exceptional. I appreciate your faith in my powers of snark, but sarcasm has its limits. Remember the Dr. Simon axiom — “It’s not that they don’t see, it’s that they disagree.”
It’s not that the OW doesn’t KNOW she’s an Other Woman, it’s that she disagrees that this will end catastrophically. Those other, Other Women weren’t THE ONE! And when you have that kind of super special once-in-a-lifetime connection on Ashley Madison? (Because HEY, there were like THOUSANDS of ads! and he picked HER! And she’s not even a cyborg from Russia!) Then you know it’s REAL.
Do you see what I’m getting at, Friend? You can’t talk sense to fuckwits. But I suspect that isn’t your true mission so much as curating the Stupid Shit Cheaters Say to Other Cheaters.
I can help with that. Chump Lady is nothing so much as a repository of Stupid Shit Cheaters Say.
In fact, I’m sure many chumps here have unearthed correspondence and discovered exactly what their married partners said to their witless enablers… and we still need brain bleach to forget.
My wife doesn’t pay attention to me.
So instead of trying to get her attention, by say wearing a giant chicken suit and waving a banner at passing trucks along the interstate (“I’VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU, DARLENE! LOOK AT ME!!!”), I thought why not just secretly fuck random women I meet online? Like you. You’ll do.
I need a lot of attention. Did I ever tell you about that time I was a National Merit Scholar in 1983? Gonzo test scores! The likes of which Brandon Township had never seen before. Me. Me. Me. Memmeemmememememememeemmeemememmememe. Were you expecting this conversation to turn to you?
You’re a good listener. My wife doesn’t listen like you do.
We don’t have sex.
Except for when we do. And those, uh, children that came from somewhere. And that bed we share.
But we don’t have sex!
And if my wife asks me? I don’t have sex with you either! (We meet for Bible study. As friends.) And if you ask me about those other, Other Women? Never touched ’em.
My cheater mindfuck channel is set at “sad sausage.” Want to touch my sausage?
We stay together for the kids.
My suffering is noble. While my wife appliance shuttles kids to T-ball practice and dentist appointments, I’m here with you. #fatheroftheyear But I can’t leave my wife appliance, because — have you ever sat through a T-ball practice? Those wretched folding chairs, the interminable boredom, the piss-warm Gatorade.
I’d love to spend more time with you, avoiding T-ball, but I’ve come, and you haven’t, and so it’s time to leave. Back to home and hearth, where those little barnacles need me. I’ll be thinking of you! Text me a picture of your tits!
My wife is going through menopause.
Which means she’s at least 15 years past her sell-by date. My balls may be sagging and my ears may sprout tufts of scraggle-hair, but I deserve some fresh ass. You look younger and gullible, and utterly lacking in self-esteem! Are you still ovulating? Great!
Of course, I don’t want any more babies. (Hell, I’ve got grandchildren I don’t know what to do with.)
She no longer turns me on.
Actually, it doesn’t take much to turn me on. A stiff breeze, an errant thought of National Geographic, those Sears ads for thermal underwear. Fact is, I’m a walking boner (especially with a little pharmaceutical assistance). And I’m ALL YOURS! (See “I need a lot of attention” above.)
My wife? Oh no. Wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole. Of all the 3,454,788 things that turn me on, she’s not one! No sir! Just YOU! You’re special!
(Short bus special. That’s what I tell my other, Other Woman. I have no idea who this crazy woman is and why she’s so into me! I tried to turn her down gently, but she won’t take the hint! No, no she doesn’t turn me on at all.)
Feeling off balance? Nothing a little pick me dance can’t cure. Ooh, that waitress sure is pretty! I’d hate for you to Not Turn Me On anymore. Naked video chat later?
Well, that’s about all I can stand, Friend. CN, add your own. Do tell that chump, please. Happy Tuesday everyone!