This is the fifth place to find me on the internet. Please don't tell me I need a sixth.
I was thinking this morning about how all of the best conversations I’ve had lately with men have been with married men because we don’t stress each other, and we can just relax and just be. None of us are worried about anything except making each other laugh. It has been very soothing to enjoy male energy in an uncomplicated way.
Except for the one conversation I had with the extremely drunk married man who within ten minutes of conversation had his hand on my knee. I pointed out the wedding ring on his hand immediately, and he retreated his hand and left the party right away, but later it occurred to me that I should have been more upset about how quickly he groped me. Oh well, it’s all insulting, right? Two days later I ran into him in the security line at the airport and he mouthed “Sorry” to me. Sorry, you guys. Sorry. He was sorry. You can say sorry to me as long as you say it to your wife, too.
The rest of the married men have been gems, though. I’d wear them on a ring, or like studs in my ears, and carry their delightful banter with me wherever I go.