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Sunday, July 17, 2011

Chapter 7, or Chips, dips, chains and...sleep?

It's August 2008 and I'm heading to the East Bay for my sister's birthday.  Why not squeeze in a little chicky chicky boom, right?  I called Guy from high school to let him know I would be in town...

He suggested I bring a few things.  So I made a trip to a store called Touch of Romance.  It’s a store I used to be embarrassed to go into, that I now walk into proudly.  I found all kinds of good stuff!  And the best part is, technically, technically, The Ex paid for it.  Alimony and equalization of the assets would go into effect in January and it was August, so we were still sharing a bank account and credit card. 
In the moment, the feeling of retribution is fantastic, but in the long run it really doesn’t make me feel any better.  I would’ve taken my husband over the money and the sex with strangers any day.  I would’ve loved him for the rest of my life.  But he left me.  So if I can get small bits of vindication here and there I will take them and enjoy them for as long as they last.
I met up with Guy from high school and brought along the toys.  Only, that time, for some reason, I wanted to make him earn it.  I made him take me to dinner and a movie first.  Bad, bad, stupid idea.  When we got back to his house he had to attend to his dog, so I went upstairs, put my bag of toys on the nightstand, changed into my new super hot lingerie and waited for him in a most alluring position.  Here’s where things went downhill.  We had sex once, didn’t use the toys, and after we were done he turned on the TV.  He turned on the TV!  What, are we married?  What the hell is this?  Shouldn’t we be having sex two more times and falling asleep only out of sheer exhaustion? 
The next morning - being that I was still unsatisfied from the night before and the fact that I love morning sex - I tried to get things started again, but to no avail.  On my way home I called my friend and said, “I can’t even get a morning lay out of this Jew*!”

*Footnote: I'm allowed to say Jew and make Jew jokes because I was married to one; I believe that's the rule according to Seinfeld.

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