Playing With Matches

Everywhere I go, all anyone is talking about is the newest political sex scandal — and why his wife hasn’t killed him.

She definitely didn’t look happy standing by her man at the press conference. A woman I work with called me and said she was sorry, but she was going to gender bash. Men, she said, are disgusting. And the fact that he did it the day before Valentine’s Day made it even worse, she said. It made it so she understood why Lorena Bobbitt chopped it off.

Men are vile, and they like hiring whores, she said. 

I know, I said. 

I told her about a guy I dated who took me to dinner on my birthday last year. Across the street, was a kinda shady-neon sign offering a massage. He said he wanted to go get a happy ending massage. 

His birthday was in two weeks. You should get one for your birthday, I said.

I think I will, he replied.

I thought we were joking.

But, it turns out, he was serious. And since this guy uses lambskin condoms (yet didn’t know that they don’t protect against STD’s, because he apparently didn’t pay attention in 8th grade health class), I told him I’d really prefer it if while we were dating, he didn’t sleep with Japanese whores. Especially since I’m a hypochondriac, and he uses crappy, infective, married-people condoms.

Apparently, that was a deal breaker for him. I never saw him again.

It was too bad. When we met, I thought he was a nice, wholesome guy. He was a big brother for Big Brothers/Big Sisters — we met at the dog park where he was watching his little brother play soccer.