New York magazine runs a feature called “Sex Diaries,” sort of like Penthouse forum but without the improving articles. Readers anonymously send in details of their sex-lives — “with comic, tragic, often sexy, and always revealing results.”
The other week, a 42-year-old corporate trader shared his hijinks with a much younger Sugar Baby. (Which could be a post all its own — why the treacly euphemism for sex workers? Should we name all professionals after popular candies? “Cancel my afternoon appointments, Marion. I have a meeting with a Milk Dud.”)
Anyway… today the Universal Bullshit Translator is tackling the Married Trader and his Sugar Baby.
DAY ONE
4:45 a.m. I am a trader, and I live in Chappaqua, so I wake up at the ass crack of dawn and sneak out of the house without waking the wife or kids. They prefer it this way since it’s so damn early.7 a.m. First Starbucks triple latte of the day. Settled into my desk. Let’s go!
4:20 p.m. The market was not my friend. Get me the fuck home.
Did you have a bad day, Boo Boo? Do you need a friend? I think we could buy you a few.
UBT: I work hard for the money and am a considerate family man who lets small children sleep. My one small pleasure is a frothy caffeinated beverage. Behold my suffering! And pity me.
DAY TWO
4:45 a.m. Same evil wake-up call. I’ve been doing this for 20 years; you’d think I’d be used to it. You’d also think I’d be richer. We just moved out here to the ‘burbs. It’s a big house in the safest possible neighborhood. The wife likes it. My two young children like it. Me? I’m not about to run for mayor, but I don’t need to burn the town down, either.
4:30 p.m. Every other Tuesday, I go to physical therapy for an old back injury. But the wife thinks I go every Tuesday. This is not a PT Tuesday. This is a Brie Tuesday. Brie is my special ladyfriend: We met at a fundraiser about six months ago, and she is 24. It is pure sex. And money. She’s not a proper escort, but she might as well be.
U-huh. You met at a fundraiser. Sure. And the UBT is a chocolate-covered pretzel.
Because that’s how it goes — you sidle up to some young thing at the Save Dyslexic Quakers gala and whisper, “Care to be my biweekly fuck for money?” And she’s in total accord with your wishes. Every OTHER Tuesday? Yes, she’s free!
UBT: Brie is my special ladyfriend. The kind of special I have to pay to touch me.
5 p.m. We meet at a midtown hotel and quickly down two dirty martinis each at the bar — it’s a solid routine. We never touch at the bar because, in case I’m ever spotted, I have a pre-rehearsed story that Brie is my niece. My real niece goes to Columbia, so it would make perfect sense if it ever got back to the wifey. The hotel is also right near my physical therapy, so I’m covered that way.
It would make perfect sense that I would drink cocktails at a hotel with my college-age niece. No one would find that creepy or unusual at all! Doting uncle is the perfect disguise! No one would ever suspect me of paying for sex!
The UBT thinks someone slipped some stupid in your drink.
5:30 p.m. In the hotel room, I always go down on Brie for as long as she lets me. Today it’s about 15 minutes. I love her pussy. It is very pretty and smells like cotton candy. We have sex missionary-style on the hotel bed and come together after about 12 minutes, if I’m being honest.
Brie fakes her orgasms.
5:42 p.m. I take a quick shower.
Gotta wash all the cheater juice off before I go home to wifey.
5:50 p.m. I give Brie $600 after every time I see her. This is because (1) she handles the hotel room, which can cost up to $350, (2) she has to cab it to Brooklyn, where she lives, and (3) I’m happy to give her spending cash. She is a part-time nanny for a Park Slope family and doesn’t make a lot. I’m no fool, I know it sounds like she’s a hooker, but it’s really not like that. And if it is, fuck it, I don’t care.
I’m not paying a hooker! I’m giving a part-time nanny some spending money! It makes perfect sense that a woman who earns $600 per half hour would spend the rest of her non-biweekly-Tuesday time babysitting small children for crap wages.
She’s just that kind of selfless, crazy kid! Don’t spend it all on comic books, okay Brie?
7:30 p.m. Home. Wife and kids are so preoccupied with bath time that I don’t have to lie about what I did at PT … because no one asks.
I’m a sad sausage. No one asked me about my day with the hooker. They don’t love me. Ergo, I should see hookers.
9 p.m. I go to bed hours before my wife. All good in the hood.
DAY THREE
4:45 a.m. Motherfuckin’ alarm.
12 p.m. It’s been a tumultuous day, work-wise.
4:30 p.m. Get me out of Dodge and straight to … SLT. I love SLT.
6:30 p.m. I meet the family for pizza in the town next door. My kids are my life. And no, I don’t think about Brie at all. I’m able to fuck her every other Tuesday and leave it at that. No texting. No sexting. No missing each other. No trouble.
As long as everyone stays in their place, everything is fine. Family pizza night/hooker night. Can’t mix it up, or it’s like when pizza delivery goes wrong and all the toppings slide off and slosh around. Family pizza night cheese cannot touch hooker Tuesday pineapple. Chaos will reign.
10:30 p.m. When all the kids are asleep, my wife and I cuddle in bed. I have a massive boner. We’ve been together for a decade, so the sex isn’t what it was, but it’s still pretty good. Last year I got “snipped,” so we’re still enjoying the freedom of that. I fuck her from behind while rubbing her clit hard, around and around, how she likes it. Brief flashes of Brie, but nothing I can’t handle.
You have an affectionate wife, who turns you on, a good job, and a lovely family. Yeah, your life just sucks. I think you deserve MORE.
DAY FOUR
4:45 a.m. Fuck my tedious life.
12 p.m. Market blows.
5 p.m. Drinks with a buddy down in Tribeca. He says his new girlfriend is coming in a little while. This guy is in the middle of a gnarly divorce, so I’m glad to see he’s getting some … in the butt. Yep, he and new girl are into ass-play, he tells me. Mostly hers, a little his. Whatever floats your boat, brah.
6 p.m. I just can’t take his new ladyfriend seriously knowing she likes to take it in the tushy.
I can’t respect a slut who likes anal sex. But a woman who takes money for sex? Hand that special lady friend $600, I say!
9 p.m. On the Metro-North home, I’m just glad to be married.
I’m sure your wife is just thrilled to not have you arrive home until after 9 p.m. I’m sure her life is never “fucking tedious” staying home with kids.
UBT: I’m just glad for cake.
DAY FIVE
4:45 a.m. I look at my phone, and there’s a voice-mail from “Joseph Hedgefund.” Guess who Joseph Hedgefund is? It’s the name of a certain soft cheese. Brie must have drunk-dialed me late last night. In the past, this would have really pissed me off, but I’m too tired to get riled up at the moment.6:30 a.m. I listen to her message from the car: She is wasted and says she wants to see me and to “choke” — on my cock. We’ve done some bondage stuff before — it’s mostly me getting whipped and emasculated and shit, but sometimes we tie her up, too. She has more than once requested to choke on my cock, so I shove it down her throat until she’s all drooling and lightly gagging. For some reason she loves it. Fun times.
She calls me to request sex. I’m sure it’s because she can’t get enough of my cock and not because she needs money.
5 p.m. I’m meeting the wife and kids at our place in the Berkshires straight from work, so I head there as soon as the market closes. I can’t wait to play with my kids all weekend.
8 p.m. Wife has made spaghetti and meatballs, and there’s a Chianti open. We play with the kids, put everyone to sleep, and make love.
Fuck my tedious life!
DAY SIX
8 a.m. Oh, sleep, I love you. I fucking love you.
12 p.m. We play outside all day. Tag, hide-and-seek, etc.
4 p.m. We go into town for Chinese food — my kids go crazy for Chinese food. Looking at my wife and spawn, I’m a happy man. These happy, healthy days make me wonder if the Brie thing is in fact a good thing for my marriage. It’s just the right release to keep things balanced.
It’s not cheating, it’s BALANCE.
A balance of power in my favor.
DAY SEVEN
9 a.m. Sleep, marry me.
3 p.m. Another missed call from Joseph Hedgefund. Now I’m getting pissed. I’ve been up front about my situation and limitations from the start. In the voice-mail, she says she got tickets to some comedy show during the week, and do I want to join her? Please, Jesus, don’t let this woman start going crazy on me. Please. When I fill the car with gas, I send her a text that says, “No more messages, please, please, please, this is serious.” And then — wait for it — I type, “See you next Tuesday.”
7 p.m. Back home. Back to the grind tomorrow. And that’s my life.
Crazy woman and her cultural events! How dare she text me! Doesn’t she know she’s a bi-weekly orifice?
I’m sorry Babe, there’s just only so much of me to go around. I give my best to my spawn and wifey. But I can choke you with my cock on Tuesday.
Calendar it.
This is a rerun. The misogyny, however, is still fresh.
After reading CL for over a year now, I think there are two major categories of cheater:the “twu wuv” schmoopie narcissists and this guy’s kind, the “compartmentalization” type of narcissist. This second type is my ex, 100%. I think they genuinely think they are masters of the universe who will never get caught, like someone who keeps driving drunk because they never killed anyone… yet. It’s truly chilling to read his internal POV and realize that that’s what my ex was like inside while playing perfect living husband on the surface. Luckily, his decision to ingratiate mistress #11 into my life cost him a whole lot of money, friendships, and reputation. I bet this hedgefund douche has it coming too.
What I find astonishing, in a nauseated, horrified way, is this pig’s assumption that his revolting drivel is totally acceptable. It doesn’t apparently occur to him that anyone would find his betrayal, entitlement, (which is off the scale) and general fuckwittery at all reprehensible. Just smug stroking of himself. Blech.
As NetNat says, a really horrible insight into what goes on in the minds of these slime.
I do hope his poor wife somehow found out about this, and kicked his arse out. D????????????
I strongly suspect that in his social circle, it is acceptable. The same way that, apparently, in his circle of friends (or colleagues) trading stories about wives’ (or girlfriends’) sexual habits is acceptable. None of this is recognizable to me. FWIW, I’m a man. I have male friends. I have a certain number of traditionally manly pursuits, such as hosting a poker group with a rotating cast of a couple dozen men – and no I know one talks like this. Ever.
The older I get the more I realize that there are groups of people who live their lives with values totally different from my own. If they would just stick to themselves, this would pretty much be OK, but they keep insisting on marrying us.
This. Certain kinds of rich people operate differently.
Entitlement is not gender related, but wow, this guy has it in spades. Just the way he talks about all the people in his life like they are objects for him to use is totally chilling.
Yes, very much a sociopathic trait. No-one has any real existence, except them. Shudder. ????
IG – glad to hear this kind of talk or behavior isn’t in most men’s wheelhouses. I agree about the types of social groups. Unfortunately I thought my STBXH was in the one I felt comfortable in, but it turned out he wasn’t. He is like a chameleon- able to seem similar to who he’s with. Just part of his extraordinary ability to lead a double life.
I hadn’t seen this entry before. Parts of it were eerily similar to my life, except my cheater was in the hotel industry & got to fly out to superb lodgings each week, with sides of nameless hired women once he was there. He told me once that it was every guys dream to f**k nameless bimbos. Hearing what the cheater above wrote to the magazine really disgusted me. My mind just doesn’t naturally think like that. I do think these guys train their brains via their chosen social group or porn websites.
During the time my kids were little, STBXH also let slip that one of his coworkers told him that he takes an early morning flight so he could play all night & come home in the morning. Tiredness from a business trip, from jet lag, or from f**king around all presents as the same. I started having recurring nightmares around this time. I dreamt many times that I married an old boyfriend & he turned into some type of a horrible partner & I was stuck with him. The boyfriends changed & the horrible behavior changed each nightmare but I always woke up next to STBXH thankful that I married him. About 10 years later I realized that HE was the nightmare & I WAS stuck: 4 kids under 12, no job, just moved, no relatives nearby, no savings either.
I’m crawling out, got my ducks in a row.
Better sooner than later.
IG – thanks for that!
Ex fuckwit tried to persuade me his revolting texts boasting about fucking the rat faced whore were “just lad’s banter!”. I posted about it here, and another male chump, (think it was Aeronaut?) told me very much the same.
Good to know there are decent men about with human values, who don’t talk about women in this way.
Chumpnomore–
Native NYer here. My friends and I stayed far, far away from Wall Street in our “babe” days because it was the rapey-est part of town. I hear it’s worse than ever now, chock full of either loser-geek-cum-master-of-universe types or scary scary former frat boys, all struggling to exude the most repulsive forms of toxic masculinity.
When a friend married a Goldman Sacks lawyer back in 2006, I was tempted to gift her with a garlic necklace and full body armour for her shower. I hoped for the best but got an empty, chilling vibe from the groom. The vibe was correct.
I find the film The Big Short to be very affirming because the Ben Rickert, Mark Baum and Michael Burry characters are a reminder that there are men who hate that shit too and that trash caused the crash.
Oops typos
Hell of a Chump, interesting!
I remember watching “Wolf of Wall Street” (?) with ex fuckwit. I was appalled, fuckwit thought it was brilliant, cheering on the di Caprio character. Yet another example of the fact we never shared the same values. If *values* is the right name. ????????
Great insight NetNat! Different flavors of the same dysfunctional entitlement.
Yes, it is my ex 100% too. He actually told me proudly that he never even knew the names of his hook-ups, as though I was going to say, “Oh, well in that case, who cares?” He bankrupted us paying for sex, but it was okay because he didn’t care enough about any of those women to learn their names? I felt even more horrified by that. Somehow I think I could have understood better if he fell in love with someone else. But to throw our marriage under the bus for someone whose name he didn’t even know?
Yeah, I had always thought it would be much worse to lose someone because they fell for someone else than have them casually cheat. But I could have at least made sense of her falling for someone else. I will never be able to understand her throwing away 14 years of love and commitment for a couple of sloppy drunk fucks with nasty randos.
Oh it all sucks.
Newbie cheaters who try to convince themselves they’re not just coldly exploiting desperate, dysfunctional randos offer their own special flavor of shit sandwich. Though there is the comic relief when they start realizing they’re losing their marriage-shield/excuse against having to actually commit to said randos. The dawning look of terror, frantic backpedaling of all romantic pretense about the affair and the AP’s highly ironic sense of hysterical betrayal over being suddenly discarded are comedy gold.
????????????
Uhh no, it’s not better.
I got the “best” of both worlds having cheater husband say it was just sex with 20 year younger work who’re but THEN he fell in love with her because it was all so romantic. True luv
Spoilers she was also “romancing” 2 other men in the office. And “broke up” with my cheater when he decided not to buy a house near her that they could screw in. (She was tired of hotels and her place).
Oh and did I mention she’s also married?
“Somehow I think I could have understood better if he fell in love with someone else. But to throw our marriage under the bus for someone whose name he didn’t even know?”
That happened to me as well. It’s not that falling in love with someone else would have been better, but at least it would have made some sense. The random hook ups, not remembering names or what they looked like (he was drunk most of the times, apparently) etc, like really? And you throw 17 years together for this? Eventually he left because he wanted “to be in love”. I didn’t even know what to reply to that.
My ex was both. All of the above. With men, with women, with non binary people. All ages. All the time. No matter so long as ex had a constant supply of sex, kibbles, and power.
Mine was the same. He’d sleep with anyone. I didn’t even know he was bisexual, yet another thing that had been kept from me.
Hey, MC, hope you’ve been well. My STBX thought she could do the cool uncommitted queer polyamory thing until affair #2, when she gave herself permission to try it without consulting me (spoiler alert! That’s cheating, not polyamory) and ended up finding someone at least as emotionally immature as STBX, who wouldn’t just be “cool” and meet up every 4-6 weeks for a hookup at various locations around the country. Nope, AP thought she was psychic and that they were destined to be together, all while pretending she was cool that STBX wanted to stay married to me. So: the experiment with no-strings polyamory was a resounding failure, but STBX still doesn’t seem to understand that she lacks the healthy boundaries to make it work in practice. Kibblefest =/= cool queer polyamory
All best to you, MC!
Ugh. Quite honestly in my foray into ethical polyamory I found that it was quite a bit of work and not the candy fest cheaters want.
Reading this made me sick. Exactly the shit my stbx was doing. Doting family man bs and we were active sexually. All the time he had a double life with random hookups at hotels and a couple of girlfriends on the side too. Hate these dumbfucks
Yes, what an insight. Each section of life ticking over nicely. As long as he gets everything he wants. Makes me sick. I hope the wife is fucking around on the side too! Just for balance you see…
Yes balance. Perhaps Mrs. Daytrader has a few calls from Beau Burbcock. This is like a sappy overrated 60’s movie (enter Jack Lemon and Rock Hudson) . The casualness this dink spews is just some draconian style of entitlement carryover from a time I’d hoped was long gone. But who the fuck am I ? I’m just a still struggling chump
NYN– Who the fuck are you? You’re the guy who enriched the lives of millions when he coined “Joe Burbcock.” You rock.
Speaking of retrograde swinger dinks, did you ever see the film The Ice Storm? Excellent.
Thank you…and yes I liked Ice Storm. Ever see Little Children? Kate Winslet.
This was so upsetting to read. I guess this is what my ex’s life looked like. For 3 years. Except he did text his hook ups, when he was sitting with me, when he was with our son, when my parents (who took him in like a son and thought the world of him) visited. That’s how my son found out (and then I did), got his dad phone to check something, and there were pics of a woman and he was replying “I miss you”.
I don’t get it. I don’t get why someone would be comfortable living like this, and why not once this guy seems to think of the pain he’s causing to his wife, forcing her to live a life of deceit. I wonder if she suspected it. I didn’t for the first 2 years, and I only started to see red flags once my ex was effectively checking out of the marriage, but he lied when I asked about it. But for the first 2 years? Not a clue. Not consciously anyway.
It’s being kept in the dark and being “forced to live a life of deceit” for so long that is so upsetting.
I only realize now, in retrospect, that mine started to check out in the last year or so of our marriage. I attributed his more withdrawn behavior to his upcoming retirement, getting old, and struggles at work. He let me believe all this, of course.
On a flight with me last March, he ruminated about whether to retire in June or December. He made a pro-and-cons list that he said was from the point of view of his patients. In other words, what would benefit his patients and what would hurt his patients if he were to leave 6 months ahead of schedule? I thought he was SO sweet for thinking of them but encouraged him to write a companion list enumerating the pros and cons of the decision for himself.
What an ass! The damn list was a ruse. He was thinking about when to drop the bomb on our 35-year marriage. And he let me comfort and console him while he ruminated. He let me think he was this great guy, thinking only of what’s best for his patients. I bought it all!
He lied lied lied lied lied lied lied…..and I was the chumpiest of chumps to not see through it.
This is what’s so difficult to process–his deception and my complete lack of suspicion (at least on a conscious level).
I’m still trying to sift through the wreckage.
“It’s being kept in the dark and being “forced to live a life of deceit” for so long that is so upsetting.”
Exactly this. I think given the choice none of us would have wanted to live a lie. I keep thinking that if I had known then I would have been 35, rather than 39. It wouldn’t have had to happen in the midst of a pandemic. I would have most of my memories intact, instead of having to look back to a happy time and think “oh it wasn’t actually happy, I just thought it was”.
My ex fed me lies when I started to notice a change, I have old texts when I asked him what was up, and he’d just straight up lie to me. It’s even more ridiculous when we consider that he’s the one who left because he hadn’t been happy, in his words, for 5 years. He gave himself the time to test a new life, try new people, and very slowly consider whether he wanted to be with me or not. All of this while I was clueless. 5 years ago he wasn’t even cheating yet, so why didn’t he try to work things out with me, rather than cheat? All this unhappiness was unknown to me. I will never understand why using people the way he did with me and your husband with you, should be ok. Your husband letting you comfort him over dropping the bomb on you is cruel. He must have known it wasn’t fair. Why spend so many years with someone and refuse to be honest with them?
“This is what’s so difficult to process–his deception and my complete lack of suspicion (at least on a conscious level).
I’m still trying to sift through the wreckage.”
I feel the same. And I feel it’s the sort of situation where you can’t win. If you’re suspicious then you’re paranoid, if you believe what they tell you and you’re not controlling then they play you for a fool. How is it ever possible to trust, after you know people can treat you like this? We can never unknow this now.
It’s the narcissist cycle. They need to make sure new supply is firmly in place before they discard us. The 18 months prior to d-day were my ex-h getting his plan in place, lining up a new woman (I now believe he had some back up plans for that role), and devaluing me. Making me work harder abs harder but nothing was ever good enough. He blamed his moods on work stress when really it was stress of leading a double life. When he blurted out his affair and raged at me, the laundry list of my shortcomings was long. He didn’t like a career choice I had made a few years prior and then he brought up a perceived slight from 15 years earlier! Narcs are entitled creatures and they don’t understand honesty, love, and empathy the way we do.
I am a retired, female physician. I think there is no other group on this earth so likely to cheat. They have the perfect place (the office after hours, their call rooms); the perfect selection of nubile health care workers wanting to land the big wallet; and the perfect excuse (call from the ER, got to run). I watched this and discussed it with my husband and shook my head…and all the time he was sharing the slut from across the hall with one of my colleagues. Actually, the men in our building passed that woman around like a cheap six pack of beer. I am such a fool.
No you are not a fool. The cheater and AP’s are the fools. You were just duped. Can happen to anyone.
Nofoollikeanoldfool,
I agree that physicians have the perfect set-up for cheating–a ready supply of willing APs and the easy excuse of being on-call or needing to go in to…SAVE PATIENTS.
They also have their noble professions as good cover for their not-so-noble (but oh-so-deserved, in their minds) extracurricular pursuits. No one would suspect! Add to that the cover of kids who are star scholar-athletes and an adoring wife whom you can still shag and you have it all (like this trader from Chappaqua).
Oh, and mine justified his affair by saying that he and the nurse “bonded over taking care of sick patients,” which he said I wouldn’t understand because I’m not in medicine.
In other words, “It’s true love born of a virtuous endeavor and the wife/chump cannot comprehend it because she doesn’t heal people.” He nailed the cheater’s triple lutz: 1. true love 2. virtue 3. better than the wife.
Nofool, it’s beyond gross that your ex and his colleagues (assume physicians all) were passing that woman around. I’m sorry that happened to you.
But maybe we should let ourselves off the hook a bit. I mean, we trusted. Sure. But we had no reason to look for evidence of cheating behavior. I think it can happen to anyone. As CL says, it’s not about us; it’s about them and their crappy character and sense of entitlement.
p.s. I hope not all physicians are cheaters. My daughter and her husband are both docs. ????
Cheater’s triple lutz ⛸????
And add to all that the sense of entitlement and importance that physicians acquire. Many people in our lives treated my former husband with deference because he is a physician. People who knew about his behavior and should have held him to account (pastor, marriage counselor, “friends”) said nothing to him.
My daughter and her husband have told me that every physician who they know has narcissistic behavior.
I didn’t even suspect until I realized the cleaning ladies had stopped coming by in the afternoon to regale me with the latest story on where they encountered schmoopie screwing a doctor in the building…the guys in security were tracking her on ccTV in and out of sleep rooms and soiled laundry closets and the chapel with various physicians. The security staff called her “Ronda the Honda” because she had so many men’s junk in her trunk. I never thought it would happen to me, didn’t suspect until the great silence fell and I realized he was “going in to do some charts” for hours at a time. So blind.
But you know now. Truth will out, though I understand how humiliating it is to learn that others knew before you did. Time to view them all in the back mirror!
I remember reading once from what i think was an ashley madison survey, that people who work in finance and in the medical sector where those most likely to cheat. Makes sense, as they get a lot of time away from home, so I think they can hide their shit better than others. You can’t really question their absence, late nights etc because work.
My ex is a banker. I couldn’t even question the drunken nights because being the bonhomme and everyone’s best drinking buddy was part of his job too, apparently. To please clients (and whoever woman or man would sleep with him). I get triggered by the smell of booze now because it reminds me of him coming back stumbling and trying to have sex with me… like that. UGH.
Spinach, try not to beat yourself up. You were behaving like a normal loving human being would do. He was the shark with the human mask.
No way you could have understood or anticipated that. I so understand how you feel, my trusting, gullible behaviour makes me squirm to this day. (4 years out from Dday).
*But*, neither of us did anything to be ashamed of. The shame is all on them.
4 years out from Dday, divorced January 2919. Yes, I *still* lash myself for being such a trusting fool. How do we get over it? Don’t know. ((hugs)). ????
Chumpnomore6
????
I remember reading this first time round and it struck me then that Miss Smelly Cheese hooker was getting ready to blackmail him. I hope she did and then his wife divorced his sorry ass!
He lost me at “the wife” like she’s an object he owns . Ughhhhhh
And “The wifey” which somehow actually does manage to be EVEN MORE INSULTING.
Agree. That was sickening. The guy is a disgustingly entitled misogynist. IMO, men who cheat either serial, long term, or use hookers are all misogynists. Notice he didn’t disrespect his buddy for liking anal sex, only the buddy’s GF. This is because to him men are allowed to do anything sexually, but if women do the same, they’re sluts.
I would pay good money for a chance to bitch slap the smirk off that wanker.
And “spawn.” The kids are objects too. Gross.
I was eating breakfast while reading this. I am suddenly no longer hungry.
I just cannot understand this guys rationalization and thought process.
That’s the thing – he isn’t rationalizing this at all. He is simply doing what pleases him in the moment and gets angry about anything that might inconvenience him. No rationalization required.
This is really a brilliant insight into the fuckwit mindset. People are objects to be used. All of his life is just a running pretense. More importantly, the running theme is that he hates life, hates everything about it except for sleep.
I find the latter particularly interesting as my fuckwit often mentioned that he wants to retire and just sleep. He also hates everything about himself and his life no matter how good it actually is. Seems to be a theme – deeply ingrained victimhood.
You forgot that one bit where he mentions he likes playing with his children. On one day lol.
But yeah. This a man who should take a hard look at himself, focus on his loving family, and do something with himself to change. But nope. Introspection is too hard.
Does he genuinely like spending time with his children, or is it the kibbles and “amazing dad” image it projects?
Fuckwits cannot treasure children like you and I do. They can’t delight in the sweet little beings children are.
I’ve had Wasband play that card way too many times. Strangers have said to me “you’ve got yourself a good man there.”
First of all, he’s not mine. He’s just a fuckwit with whom I bred and have to see at daughter’s doctor’s appointments.
Secondly, he is NOT a good man. You never know what happens behind closed doors.
I take the liberty of telling #2 to commenting strangers. People need to know sociopaths walk among us.
He used to wheel our handicapped daughter up to the front of church every Sunday, in front of all the admirers. I still feel sick when thinking about it. Being in that part of the church gives me panic attacks.
If you can imagine this, though: one Sunday he bent over to pick her up and literally showed the congregation the top half of his asscrack: the pimply, hairy, freckly, pasty butt of a 350 lb man. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so horrified at the fact that so many innocent, nonconsenting people who now had that image burned into their brains.
Oh my, you’re right it would be funny if it wasn’t tragic. Big hugs.
And they do the performative good dad thing, while actually doing very little. My ex was always doing very little because he travelled a lot for work and I was sahm so I never held it against him, but for some reason now he doesn’t like it when I said I did 80% of it. He says it’s true but I also did my bit, which I don’t deny, but I did and still do more. Even now that I’m back in full time education to retrain.
“To pledge fealty to a marriage is outside the new norm of society”.
I literally did a spit take after that one. What the everloving f**k?
You wanna know what else is “outside the new norm of society”?
Me *not kicking you square in the face. You know, since society has new norms and all…
Oops, that got nested under the wrong comment.
This one is for vee:
Exactly! I am grateful for the privilege of being a SAHM. I do not complain about the work I had to do. But no one can say I didn’t do anything.
In a custody hearing he claimed 100% of the child raising and 100% of the breadwinning. He said all I did was sleep and hide in my room.
It still bothers me deeply to this day. But I have to remember: fuckwits do not base their facts on reality. They twist the facts in order to hit the painful spots and insecurities.
He loves to be a wonderful dad in public, but behind the scenes he does very little.
For example, he created this beautiful fundraising page for our daughter’s surgery. That took maybe 3 hours. But his name and face are all over it. He can’t even list all her official diagnoses and specialists. Home exercises and treatments were up to me.
Vee, how could your fuckwit even claim 20% of the childcare if he was traveling all the time?
One afternoon of taking the kids to the museum does not equal two weeks of day in, day out care for home and children. No one sees us cleaning vomit off the floor for the third fourth time in one night, but he’s amazing because he carries them on his shoulders for one afternoon.
*insert one hundred green barfing emojis* Truly sick.
Am I alone in wishing that this entitled ass would just quietly, privately masturbate and not write columns about his use of Brie, the human flesh light? Brie is a whore with bad business sense. Daytrader is a monster whore. I hate everything about this.
I hope his wife found out and ran like her hair was on fire.
Even if this is completely fictional (and it could be), I hate that it encourages folks who actually pull this shit.
I was thinking this was fiction. The use of “see you next Tuesday” as the last sentence…c.u.n.t. Even if it’s some trader’s dream, he’s a jerk. The reference to his spawn. Brie, the cotton candy scented hooker. Drinks with the guys. I can see this guy as the aging frat boy type. I’m not in New York, but the traders in Chicago are pretty similar. Bleah.
The cotton candy scent threw me. How in the world could a grown woman make her lady bits smell of, and only of, cotton candy? Pure wet dream fiction. It just dehumanizes Brie even more.
“Get me out of Dodge and straight to … SLT. I love SLT.”
What does this even mean? Does SLT = slut? I don’t get it.
It’s a chain of fitness “studios.”
The man has a good job, a nice home, and a loving wife and family, but none of that is good enough for him. He thinks he is entitled to something more exciting. After all, he faces the horrible injustice of having to wake up every day to go to work, which is so unbearable that he must lie, cheat, and betray to muddle through just to make it through to the idyllic family weekend. It seems unbelievable to those of us with a strong moral compass but this is really how they rationalize and convince themselves they’ve done nothing wrong.
Yes! He oozes entitlement. It’s gross.
This guy is disgusting for so many reasons, and I feel so so sorry for his poor family. They’re on a path of complete destruction and will be forever damaged because of this asshole.
But I actually feel even more pity for him. He’s got the greatest of all treasures you can find in this life – a loving spouse, healthy children, a family who adores him. And yet he has no capacity to see how lucky he is, let alone appreciate it. His head is so far up his own ass, all he can see is shit.
My greatest hope for him – and my own ex fuckwit – is that they live to be very old, with no family by their side. I hope their children don’t visit or call, and they have to use their retirement funds to pay for viagra and 30 minutes of comfort with a dirty whore. On Christmas.
MehBeSoon
Don’t forget- the poor guy has to be away from his lovely wife, lovely house, lovely kids all day long…. he has to commute, he has to go for drinks with his buddies, probably dinners, his life is tough.
Give him a break.
On the other side- his wife takes care of the kids/ household on her own- pure joy. Yes, waking up at night, sick kids, feeding changing, later play dates, school, appointments etc. – pure joy.
????????????????????????????????
Yearight Brie needs all that money for hotel room and a taxi home. She’s probably got another sugar daddy in the second Trader Schmoe is out the door. Pre-bookable hotel rooms can be super-cheap, and she may not have been paying for that – some hotels have in-house hookers.
Trader Schmoe isn’t just a cheat, a liar and (sorry not sorry) a disgusting parasite of a capitalist nightmare, he’s also pretty damned stupid. ????
Yeah I don’t believe for two seconds she’s just a babysitter the rest of her time. I think that’s him bullshitting to make it seem like he’s less of a garbage person. “I pay her $600 every other Tuesday to fuck in a hotel BUT SHE’S NOT A HOOKER I DONT BUY HOOKERS IM A GOOD HUSBAND! I mean, clearly I’m super special and this 24 year old is totally into me for reals and I gotta keep her away, yknow how chicks are, not my fault she can’t resist my dick, but I totally don’t buy hookers…Hey how gross is it my buddy’s girlfriend takes it in the butt? Tsk, some people just can’t be taken seriously.”
Why do I get the mental image of this guy as a petulant corporate yuppie fighting a receding hairline but fully convinced that strippers actually like him?
He thinks she makes a special trip for him. —- ha. How quaint.
I feel so sorry for his wife and children. I just want to go throw up now.
Is he having safe sex with Moldy Cheese? Probably… NOT. So, he has oral and vaginal sex with Moldy Cheese and then has sex with his wife. I hope “the wife” stays healthy and doesn’t have to reap the consequences of his entitlement. They are just so unbelievably selfish.
His life is tedious because he is tedious and boring and without imagination, They are all so simmilar, it’s uncanny.
TOTALLY THIS! My ex was the same way. He was always bored! I finally realized he is just bored because he is boring! He can’t take an interest in anything outside himself. We took a trip to Asia, and he was bored the entire time–even when we visited the tombs of ancient kings, shopped in outdoor markets, and visited Buddhist temples. He just wanted to eat a McDonalds and he thought the whole thing was “boring.” Imagine how he was at home–always bored, never interested in doing anything. We had bookshelves full of books he never read, art supplies he never used, golfing equipment and fishing equipment that got rusty in the garage. He even had a fishing boat once that he took out twice before he just left it sitting in the yard. I definitely have decided that life is what you make of it. People who have loads of opportunities but are bored of life are boring people who expect to be constantly entertained even when they put in no effort.
Yup. The saying only boring people get bored is very appropriate.
My ex also had tons of things he wanted to do and never finished. He insisted on buying plants and they all died because he didn’t water them. We planted a garden, and after the initial thrill he never took care of it, and I was left alone doing it. He got himself a fancy bike and would barely go. Used to run for a bit then he got bored. He even got bored ot taking the dogs for walks (and now he laments how much he misses them since he left lol).
Now he’s a vegetarian, out of nowhere (or so my son tells me). I still have nightmares of him being on my back when I tried to do it, because he wanted to eat meat.
Yes! My ex bought an expensive bicycle and used it only for about a month. He used to golf but refused to golf with my friend’s husband since that guy was much better at golf than him (couldn’t handle not being the best), he started woodworking projects that never finished so piles of wood everywhere in the garage, he bought all kinds of hone brewing equipment he used one winter, he planted a garden one summer and left me to do the weeding & veggie picking, yep he never could stick with one thing. And guess that also included women.
FWIW I find it odd that he can go home around 4:30 pm or so. I know a couple of Day Traders and they seem to work around the clock. I feel as though this asshole wrote his story based on old movies.
I guess the audience for these stories is the audience who used to read Playboy Forum and thought it was real.
Yeah. I half expected him to reference “the gals at work.” Seems dated, but you’re right about the intended audience.
It does sound like something made up. Maybe I’m naive – I’m not saying at all that women don’t enjoy oral sex but enjoying gagging on a cock sounds like somebody who watches porn too much (hint hint, his pee pee is soooooo bigly big that a young woman can’t but gag on it).
A young sex worker falling for a sad, middle aged dude and keeps calling and wanting him … somebody thinks he’s James Bond.
The arrangement with Brie might be true. Sorry to be blunt here but if you only need a mistress once every two weeks for not even half an hour, then you don’t need a mistress at all.
Exactly. That was my thought too. I know people really do cheat, so it’s possible this piece of stupid writing was based on real life. But it really shows me the disconnect between a cheater’s imagination and reality. Reality here would be this “Brie” is a prostitute with a drug habit who calls him up sometimes when she needs money for drugs. He gets off on feeling like a secret agent with a double life. His wife is getting unhappy because he is always in a bad mood and never really there for her and constantly complains about everything. His job is about to fire him because he’s not really very good at it. And instead of investing in his family and career, he’s off sulking about how he doesn’t have enough money, while dumping $600 a day on some hooker who will tell him he’s magnificent. He’s a loser.
I was suspicious from the get-go.
I thought the whole thing was “creative writing.” Could be some kernels of truth in that sordid tale, but after I found out how skilled my ex was as a fabulist (he had me – and my family – believing for years he’d been an Army Ranger, and told multiple tall tales related to his supposed exploits), I suspect most people who brag about themselves.
Narcissists don’t just exaggerate, they make shit up. And with practice, they become damn good at it. Bernie Madoff, for example.
Technically speaking, given the laws he broke, Madoff is a sociopath. From what I understand, whether or not they break laws is a distinguishing characteristic between narcissists and sociopaths. But they have so many sickening similarities….
“I’m not saying at all that women don’t enjoy oral sex but enjoying gagging on a cock sounds like somebody who watches porn too much”
She’s young, it seems to be a popular thing with the younger generation. In fact, I worry about girls nowadays, sexuality has always catered mostly to men but imo it got worse. Since dating apps men treat women like objects even more.
The inability to make the connection between never having enough money and a $600 a week hooker is truly astounding.
Bookmark this and read it every time you think you miss your spouse, your marriage, or feel jealous of the cheating accomplice.
Read this when you feel desperate to know what they really think, what they really feel, what they have really been doing. Cheaters are all the same and so are people who cheat with them, as has been proven by this blog countless times. This literary window into the tiny cesspool of a cheater’s mind and the person cheating with them is the window into all their tiny cesspool minds. There is nothing unique, special, or desirable there. Lots that is stunningly repellent.
That sickening feeling of revulsion and disgust when I read this is the normal reaction, installed by Mother Nature to protect me from people, places, things, and situations that are harmful to me.
I can only hope “the wife” at some point was on to him and ditched his creepy pond-scum lowlife ass by the side of a bad road in a bad neighborhood where he belongs.
This gives me chills. My STBX wrote a journal, where he’d copy and paste his text message exchanges with his “sugar baby” i.e. the sex worker he paid $500/visit and discuss everything. I was referred to as “wife” not even ‘the” and never by my name. Our children were called one and two. He also complained that he’d worked worked for 20 years, and was entitled to a little happiness, danger and intrigue that the hooker gave him. Now in the midst of our divorce, he’s trolling Twitter for escorts (which “one” and “two” found out about). When I found out on DDay, he claimed he wanted to stay married but have sugar baby on the side because what was wrong with that? After two months of unproductive marriage counseling (which in his journal was a “waste of his time, because to pledge fealty to a marriage is outside the new norm of society” ) I uncovered a whole bunch of secrets I wish I’d never found, and ran for the hills—kicked him out and filed for divorce. His new hookers are even more expensive but they “travel” from Vegas, LA and do “tours” in the city were we live. Nothing like spreading your viral profile far and wide.
Morally bankrupt and they don’t even know it.
Side note: “I’m meeting the wife and kids at our place in the Berkshires”
But also “You’d also think I’d be richer.”
This self-contradictory BS is a side note to the point, but it also brilliantly illustrates just how legitimately insane cheaters are. They are 100% not even living in the same universe as ethical people.
This guy spends household money on an activity that directly exposes his wife to sexually transmitted illnesses without his wife’s consent. I consider that to be theft and assault.
He also seeks out someone much younger and gets off on the person smelling like a child. Lord knows what’s happening on their internet — putting his wife at risk of a child porn investigation and possible conviction because it’s happening in her house.
Because with an attitude like this guy has, you KNOW there HAS to be some teen porn in that house, electronic or otherwise.
Anyway. This guy’s a dick. Hope he gets caught and prosecuted and becomes a little less “richer”.
Bath and body works and Victoria’s Secret have sold cheap body sprays that smell like cotton candy. That’s my first guess.
Sounds like his taste in perfume is as elevated as his taste in hobbies.
Indeed. I don’t tell others what to wear, or how to smell… Or how to feel…
Still, I find it to be a GIANT red flag if a person shows signs of being aroused by things that are commonly associated with children, like the smell of baby powder or lip smackers, cutesy faux-innocent-flirty behavior and images, cheerleader or schoolgirl fetishes, etc. etc.
There may be reasons to be into those things that don’t equate to a direct sexual interest in underage humans, but it’s so off-putting to me as a general topic that I couldn’t ever have it going on in my own inner circle. So it really gut-punched me to read it in this story.
I won’t have anything at all to do with Victoria’s Secret, and this is one of the top three reasons — to simultaneously infantilize and sexualize the same product is a violation of ethics of the highest order in my mind, and it’s a business base for them.
Victoria’s Secret is owned by L Brands, headed by Leslie Wexner, who gave Jeffrey Epstein the business of managing his money (and later claimed Epstein embezzled it). So your instinctive dislike of Victoria’s Secret because it simultaneously infantilizes and sexualizes is spot on.
Whoa! Thanks for that detail — so yucky for sure.
Braces are a really common choice for women who take on the Sugar Baby role, too, for…well, the reasons you pointed out.
When Cheater was alive, Tiger Woods had been caught fucking waitresses and after reading of his exploits, I said “that is biohazardous rape”…his wife did not consent to the degree of risk she is being exposed to. Cheater (who had been caught in one affair) made a very strange face. I thought he was mad that I was dissing his hero. What I didnt know was that I had been a victim of the same crime.
Okay, sleuths, how do we find this guy? We need to let the wife know.
Should be fairly easy:
Hedgefund worker age 42
Married with 2 kids
Commute time to Wall Street 60 min
Town doesn’t have pizza
Weekend place in Berkshires
PT every other Tuesday
Old back injury
Google!
Add:
Douche had a vasectomy 1 year ago
Add: Mega narcissist, so likely subscribes to, and probably has otherwise written for, NY Mag.
Add: member at https://sltnyc.com
Oh, I doubt this is real. It may be based on truth, but I’m sure loads of details are changed–especially how rich the cheater is. He has to seem wildly successful and cool. I’m sure the real dude is an assistant restaurant manager making $50,000/year, and his wife is a teacher. In other worse, I’m sure my ex could have written something like this, and he would definitely dream up a “house in the Berkshires” and other such nonsense.
Thought the same thing. Those in wealth management and Wall St aren’t exactly the type to keep journals or write.
Although probably made up, this little journal entry serves as erotica for a certain type of man, the aging Don Draper wannabes who wish they could get away with this behavior–sexy job, sexy neighborhood (Chappaqua, really?), sexy wife, love-of-my-life kids, and sexy hooker who enjoys gagging on his oh-so-big dick.
What’s hard to swallow is his writing.
We’re all gagging.
I doubt this is real too, but it has enough realistic bits & pieces. Now lots of men can try getting a wad of cash, a few drinks at the bar, do what they want with the hooker, then leave the hotel first with the hooker to pay the bill! Do any nice hotels even let you have a room without showing a credit card? But some may try this. Thanks New York magazine staff writer.
My ex said he used cash when he got a room at a nice hotel for himself and the AP. (I had forgotten that detail and right now feel the terrible sting all over again.)
He also said he bought a plane ticket with cash.
He lies all the time, so who knows?
No hotel (Ritz Carlton or Days Inn) lets you use a room without a credit card, for incidentals and potential damage.
Good point. I bet they used her card, and he paid her back in cash. They’re sneaky scum.
I handled all of our finances, so I don’t think he could have snuck that charge. And I only noticed after d-day that he had been taking out more cash than usual for a couple years. He withdrew small amounts so as not to call attention but did that more frequently. So premeditated!
A lot of checks for cash were one of the tells that he was cheating. Nothing in the credit card statements. Oh and the need for a post office box in town. We lived in a nice suburb and nobody was coming on our acreage to “steal the mail”.
That’s why she was handling the bill.
Her credit card- his cash.
His dick should come with a warning label:
“Warning: Small objects may cause choking.”
Idk, sounds realistic to me. My ex is a banker, and this is the sort of double life he had, except he had more randos to hook up with rather than just the one girl.
My stbx had an exit affair after 30 years together and yet this is still him. Unhappy, ungrateful, enough was never enough to fill the void where his heart should be. He blew up our lives thinking a howorker would be the solution to all his problems. Told me I was making him sick and that he had to drink just to be anywhere near me.
Fast forward 18 months. Turns out he was making me sick and according to discovery documents he’s drinking…. a lot (my kids confirm). His problems got worse and he’s still unhappy (my kids confirm). Shocking.
Simply disgusting.
Oh, his deep care and appreciation for his spouse and kids! I wonder what he thinks his kids will think when they learn about this? My husband used to “take the car to Nashville to get it worked on” and spend 4-5 hours with schmoopie at a hotel, take her to dinner at OUR favorite restaurant, and bring me home a sack of take out. Nothing but a black, stinking, rotten hole in his heart where his honor ought to be. During the course of his affair, we ended up with a $100,000 shortfall in his business budget. He wanted me to take the money out of MY retirement. By then, I’d caught on, though I hadn’t told him, and I refused to give him the money.
Call me an old cynic, but I am not convinced the writer of this drivel is the man he says he is. I heard an old country song the other day which made me laugh. The song was about his double life. In reality he was a short fat man, still living in his parents basement, and he had a menial job. While in the basement, he goes online and creates an entirely different persona, nothing like him, with stolen pictures and events from other peoples lives. He only “talks” to women. I think he’s called a “catfish”, but he doesn’t mention trying to extort money from his victims. His payoff is adulation and duper’s delight.
I am sure misogyny is real. I’ve experienced it. I’m sure some men think of women as objects, and tell themselves all kinds of porn fantasy things about how women think. I’m sure there are violent sexual predators out there. What we have to remember is not ALL men are this way. If this odious creature exists, he is a self confessed cheater and freak. I am sorry for all the wives and children who are home waiting for daddy to have to wonder if this is who their dad really is. This man is a monster on so many levels, even if he is a fictional creation. What he says and what he represents himself to be is horrifying. The worst part is he thinks he is so smart and so cool, he has no connection to how the decent people of this world regard his actions. Worse, he doesn’t care.
All of us were connected to cheaters. We know who they represented themselves to be, and who they really were. There is a continuum of bad behavior to good behavior, and by their choices they trend toward the bad end. This guy is not the worst, but he is disgusting. Please give the UBT some nausea medication for translating this gross diary.
This was horrible to read but also interesting to me. It’s amazing how this man could compartmentalize without a thought to his wife. This is what my husband did. He claimed to want both me and his cheating, which he did for a long time. That was, until he found someone else he likes better and then he dropped me like a hot rock. He insisted it would be okay to have us both. I said no, and he chose her. And now he hates me. It’s truly amazing the entitlement that comes with the person who believes it’s okay to have the window dressing of a family without putting the love into the unknowing wife. This was my story up until I found out and it all blew apart. My husband didn’t care if I was happy, that my needs were met. He was okay having sex with me and others-and then the balance tipped. He enjoyed the sex more outside of the marriage because it was more exciting and the hookers and his girlfriend would allow him to do whatever he wanted. So the sex inside our marriage became too boring for him and it meant I was deprived of sex and affection. This story reads of someone who thinks they’re getting away with a victimless crime. My husband thought it was okay to hurt me and he resents how badly I feel about what he did.
$600 for a half hour, every two weeks. He’s the chump, hopefully he gets herpes. Dirty creepy dog.
More proof that many people have a screw loose.
This guy claim to be in the financial industry but he can’t do simple math.
5:30 performs oral for 15 minutes – has missionary sex for 12 minutes
5:42 gets in shower
Maybe he’s a time traveler.
“claims” not claim
Not necessarily…he could have forgotten the decimal point…
1.2 minutes missionary
Two pump chump ???? Or a three thrust failure
Here is the thing. There is NO way Brie wouldn’t rather have sex with a hot guy in his 20’s. This dude’s wallet is the ONLY thing going for a girl living on Nanny wages. His receding hairline and saggy balls are the downside of a gig economy…
She is a prostitute. The clue is that she pays for the room. Uh huh. Does he escort her home? Nah. He’s off to the train. She washes her junk and readies for her next piglet to arrive.
My ex used to come back home and immediately shower. He used to say it was because he had been sweating and wanted to relax. When I started to get suspicious that he might be cheating, I connected these 2 things and yeah… he was washing off someone else. He did smell funny a few times coming home, he smelled like perfume or some smell that wasn’t his. He’d always say that he had a lunch/dinner with a client, maybe a couple of drinks and that was the reason. Thinking back now I have no idea why I bought this bullshit. I will never stop kicking myself over it.
This line just made me want to puke:
“These happy, healthy days make me wonder if the Brie thing is in fact a good thing for my marriage. It’s just the right release to keep things balanced.”
Do people not get the concept of marriage? You are dedicated to 1, and only 1, person. If you wanted multiple lovers or side-pieces, why get married? It’s not that much of a tax break (there are other avenues to take to get more write-offs instead of putting a ring on a person), so why do it unless you want to portray yourself as the picture of the “ideal man, w/a wife, children, material items, etc.”
I can’t help but wonder if the XW kept a similar double-life like this, since she chatted by phone w/her lover daily, and made trips to the home office to work directly w/him. And I can only wonder what her AP partner thought of her, grinning while she was “choking on his dick” when they met up to get busy, knowing that her husband was home w/the children, oblivious to what she was doing.
Stories like this is why I hope and pray that if there is a God, then the plan for these cheaters AND their APs are to burn in hell for all eternity.
I believe there is a God and Im Catholic (as was Cheater) and I firmly believe in Purgatory…awaiting my arrival having learned after he died that his cheating was serial. That can’t be fun.
Right after he died, I prayed a prayer of forgiveness for him. Soon after I started finding proof of his long -term cheating. Once the scales fell from my eyes I reprocessed hundreds of events looking for cheating where it hadnt even occurred to me before. I told God “if he cheated on me that day we moved out of our first house (he was gone for hours and didnt finish the task he was supposed to do) then he can sit in purgatory until I get there”.
Serious eye-roll at any guy who uses the phrase “the wife” or the word “ladyfriend.” Sounds right out of 1990s Esquire.
I have mixed feelings about CL (re)linking to this kind of idiocy. On one hand, it’s important that she continues to rewrite the narrative around cheating and infidelity and call out these clowns. But clicks on stories like these are just kibbles that feed editors/writers who are rewarded with a substantial audience and then continue to publish the same crap.
Now takedowns of Esther Perel? Now, those I love.
I think this was a fake letter. Not a fake story, though. Because I don’t think these type guys have even that much insight or self awareness. Like the Jordan Belfort character in Wolf of Wall Street. They are just filthy phonies. I’m think this letter was written by a female in the know of how some of these square workaholic Boy Scout types Operate. Banal yet monstrous.
I agree. There’s every chance some dumb ass journalist wrote this for click bait. I think all of us Chumps should start a blog with imaginary cheating glory stories. Imagine how good we’d all be at this?? Maybe we can donate the proceeds to Chumps who can’t afford legal fees.
The plots are simple…
I am amazing, I am a dutiful spouse. All these people want me, so what’s a person to do? I’ll fuck my way around town to serve them all. I’m so special, don’t you want to be me? It feels good to eat cake. Spouse and children?? Collateral damage (if I get caught). See, easy writing!
YES!! I love this idea!
Do I believe this story? Totally. Is it possible a woman wrote it? Perhaps, but this is my life. My stbx is a corporate lawyer for one of these banks on Wall Street. I watched him become more carried away with himself the more money he made over the years, but the money never translated into happiness. I attempted to console him and please him, but it was never enough.
Then he found his friend, the Instawhore, divorce coach. He would actually meet up with her every other week. They’d have dinner at a fancy restaurant and then back to a hotel not far from her home in NJ where they would screw around for an hour. Then she’d go home to her kid. He told me he was going out with friends or to a work dinner or a guitar lesson. When one of my friends said check your phone bill, that’s when I found all of the lies. He also took out lots of cash and came home on occasion with a new smell. I even had a nightmare where I woke up with a start and wrote it down. In the dream, a condom fell out of his pant leg and I screamed at him. Couldn’t figure out where that dream came from at the time. Yikes, it does make you feel stupid.
With my first cheater I had a recurring dream that he was hiding something behind his back and wouldn’t show it to me. Eventually I started to have a new version of the dream where a reflection in a mirror would reveal he was holding a knife.
Wasn’t until a year later that I realized he was cheating. My brain figured it out way before me and had been trying to let me know. Now I heed those types of dreams.
I used to have those dreams as well. I also got sick, I developed gastritis out of nowhere and couldn’t eat, I became very anemic, I had trouble sleeping, and this was before knowing anything at all. Your body knows. We just didn’t know at the time. Never again I will not listen to my body telling me something is off.
Yes! Same. That’s why I believe it, I’m literally the wife and I know my ex lived this life. And so much about coming home with a new smell, I noticed it as well, he took this habit of running straight to the shower as soon as he got in the door on the rare nights he made it home for dinner. I can relate so much.
He is a banker and I also went through the same thing as you. We got together when we were 21 so we were young and still studying. He was ambitious and wanted the big career. I supported him through it, with many sacrifices as he was always away and working long hours and I had to give up my career so that I could be home with our son. Mind you that we live in my ex’s country, I had no help from my family so I was basically a single mum. When he started to make money, first came the ego trips, and then the affairs. The expensive dinners and hotels, the hook ups with randos he just met etc. Just like this guy. And for 3 years he played the same role of good husband and father who worked sooooo hard and whose life was sooooo hard and boring, while having this double life.
You know the movie The Devil’s Advocate? Basically that. I do think money and ambition change some people, or maybe just bring out some trait that were always there but didn’t manifest until they found breeding ground. But here we are.
I agree with you. My STBX let the power of being a business owner go to his head and he seduced a young client who is his kinky sex slave (after all the years of hookers). Funny thing though, I supported him to get to where he was in his career- I actually brought him into MY business. It’s so humiliating what he did to me. Having me help him for 25 years, then when he was struggling (again) I brought him into work with me and he traded me in for this young woman right under my nose. You can’t get much more treacherous than that. I do think perceived power in their careers goes with the territory unfortunately. This is why that woman went for him and helped break up our family. He is currently unemployed, which was right back to where he was when I met him – struggling to get off his ass and keep a job.
What a horrifying little story. This shallow, hateful man is hollow on the inside. I think most people have more in common with a herd of Wildebeasts crossing the African savannah then they do with this guy.
P.S. And hooker Roquefort is just as pathetic.
I don’t know if the Sex Diaries letter is real or not, but the character portrait drawn in it has the ring of truth (or the lack-of-character portrait, really, if it’s possible to paint a portrait of someone who’s not there, like in Killing Commendatore….). The entitlement (I deserve more than I earn), the victim complex (Poor me, look at how hard I work), the complete self-absorption (I get home from work and my wife is too busy wrangling the kids all by herself to pay attention to me), and complete lack of empathy that goes with it (for “the wife” and “Brie” and how they’re feeling)—those are the real deal.
I recently read a comment on a YouTube video by Dr. Les Carter (I think—couldn’t find it when I went back to link to it) that purported to be a sort of narcissist’s apology or confession. It was from a guy who cheated and walked out on his wife after about 10 years because she wanted a family and he didn’t want to deal with all the “prams and junk” and didn’t want to play second fiddle to a baby…. In the comment he said he had gotten a diagnosis of NPD, he knew he had been a monster to his wife and now 20 years later he was depressed and alone and plagued with thoughts about what he had done…but as you kept reading (and, naturally, it went on and on), it became clear that he was only sorry for himself. Unsurprisingly, he finished up by blameshifting the whole thing, whining, “Why didn’t anyone tell me I had a problem and try to help me?”
I found that moment so chilling—that and an offhand comment he made that he had only thought of his wife *once or twice* in the intervening 20 years…. That inhuman paradox of hollowness and self-absorption, like a hurricane spinning obsessively and violently around a still, empty eye, leveling everything in its path: that’s the trademark of a narcissist. I hear an echo of that eerie mix of roar and silence in the Married Trader’s letter.
I remember reading this banal day-in-the-life-of-a-sociopath article when it was first published. Sociopathy is rooted in a particular need for secrecy from one’s partner, especially when secrecy becomes a necessary ingredient to generate excitement. Secrecy is the manure from which red flags grow like mushrooms.
What was his motivation for writing this piece? And why would the New Yorker publish it? He doesn’t come off like a man who spends anytime on introspection – so why does he sit down at his desk to craft this drivel? Plus, he gives enough detail – where he lives, his PT schedule, where he works out, his job, how long he’s had the job, etc to be recognizable. It sounds like someone trying to channel Don Draper. If it’s real, it must be duper’s delight.
And Brie – $600 less a $350 hotel room and cab fare? She sleeping with this POS for $200 a pop??? Hookers in NYC charge a lot more than that (judging from my husband’s bank withdrawals last business trip there ;/
I don’t know what’s more disturbing – that douches like this exist or that the New Yorker put out this pig’s story real or imagined.
New York Magazine published this garbage, not the New Yorker.
This made me so so so sad. My heart breaks for his poor unsuspecting wife, at home taking care of young children- while he puts her health in jeopardy. What a callous, entitled SOB this guy is. He’s the stuff of nightmares. I really hope his wife finds out- and I really hope that he doesn’t get the hooker pregnant (which I’m sure she’s planning on doing.)