WHY I CHEAT

Men, Marriage, and Cheating

The Official Hook-up
Guide for Men
By
Tim Patten
WARNING BIASED M ATERIAL WILL OFFEND SOM E READERS

iUniverse LLC
Bloomington

WHY I CHEAT
Men, Marriage, and Cheating
Copyright 2014 Tim Patten.
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Contents
Introduction
Disclaimer
1: Why I Cheat
2: Shellys Love Dream
3: Painful Love
4: I Am Committed
5; Brotherhood Code Destroyed
6: A Man in Love
7: Facebook Secrets
8: Shame on You
9: I Want a Family
10: Monogamy Sucks
11: Lady Derringers Sex
Epilogue
The Full Manifesto of the Dominant Male
Footnote References

Introduction
Why invite tidal waves of pernicious misandry by writing a book portraying women as jealous,
bitchy, and abusive while glorifying cheating? There are reasons beyond the fact that most women
will nag her man an estimated 1,298 continuous hours each year! i So, Ive written this book first,
because I want to help my fellow men and women, and second, to demonstrate how marriage and
monogamy wont kill youbut will force you to stop living and will murder mans libido ii
Fourteen years ago, my best friend John went on a date, resulting in an accidental pregnancy;
similar to Lisa and Craig Johnsons story in Chapter 9. Johns shotgun marriage forced him into
excommunication from life, friends, hobbies, and from his own happiness. I watched John transform
from a fun-loving man with dreams to a shell of a man as he withstood the hen-pecking of his wife.
Her complaints left him defeated and unhappy. His life is now a friendless dungeon of solitude; he
works endlessly for her and is never allowed out on his own.
Today, John is miserable, he hates his life, and he hates his wife. Unlike Russell Carlson in
Chapter 1 who chases endless adventures of adultery, John is faithful, yet his wife commits verbal
and psychological abuses at every turn. She has strangled his spirit, crushed his mind, and
assassinated his soul. His loving wife has killed his passion and rendered him broken.
Ive written this book as a way to help John, in hopes that his life might improve, and so nobody
else is doomed to this mistreatment and suffering.
These pages will aim to show the damage that many women inflict with their manipulative jealousy
and verbal abuse, placing men in untenable positions, especially when faced with unpleasant
prospects of alimony and child support payments. For example, in Chapter 4, Gary Perkins response
to marriage commitment is inspiring for all of us.
In Chapter 5, Frank and Bills experience shows us about brotherly bonds. They discover that the
number two reason men leave their women is their never-ending complaining and bitching, all
ending with Franks encounter with the legal system. Please God, deliver men from this torture.
Whether youre a great guy, like John, or an average Joe, this feline-terror happens to millions.
Many women strip men of the will to live. However, you will note in Chapter 6, that Dennis
Wakelands beautiful girlfriend, Joan gave his heart wings and we thrill as we watch his flight of
love.
Perhaps man is not meant to focus his attention on one woman for his entire life. After you read this,
you decide. Enjoy delving into monogamy with Tom Peterson and Shirley in Chapter 10, and you
will meet Cecilia Barns in Chapter 11 and see how her demonic personality delivers a disastrous
outcome for poor Roy.

Now, dont get me wrong. I realize women are people, too, and likewise, many of them are abused
by men. But, for the sake of this book, remember it is a biased view: not all women are like this.
Though I am hardly a misogynist, I know most womens jealousy and her emotional abuse will create
potent munitions, and this is the book that brings these problems out into the light.
There once was a book about a couple of planetsMars and Venus, I think, and in a way, this is my
version. Some call it infidelity, cheating, or creeping. Call it what you will. When it is
misunderstood, it is toxic and emasculating. It becomes a poison that imprisons and kills men who
convert into victims that self-hate, they self-harm, and they self-destruct.
No matter the cheaters reason, infidelity is nothing new, and it is not stopping any time soon, even
as men pay the high price of jealous female rages like those in Chapter 2 when Shelly Paynes
husband suffers a fury of religious proportions!
Throughout time, marriage has been romanticized into fabled proportions. Youll find Chapter 7
interesting when you read how Allen Dobson discovers an alternative marriage.
From most females perspective, marriage might be a good play. Wives usually keep up the false
pretenses that all is excellent at home, and if not, shell make it perfect. How? She will put two faces
on. She will shame, lie, trick or blackmail. Youll see all of this in Chapter 8 in Bob Kellys inside
Story.
Relationships, as most women see it, are unions where the women obtains what they want. Men
agonize over the costs and burdens required to make their women happy, but the women thrive while
the mens raison dtre is relegated to gratifying themself pushing mens needs to secondary position
and male enslavement prevails. That is, unless the woman is the sole provider.
Today in the U.S., one man is killed each day, murdered by his loving girlfriend. You will
explore this further in Chapter 3, Jeff Andersons Story.
My intention is to shine a beacon of light into the relationship blackness for men who have been
badgered and destroyed. I want to remove the mystery-of-women for men. Men and women can be
liberated from abusive behaviors, yet are presently unable to separate from this obsession with
monogamy due to jealousy.
Auto-determination is the light at the end of the tunnel, each of us should never strive to own
another persons body. Rather, we should strive for self-ownership. Inside are solutions.
Heres to freedom!

Disclaimer
This book doesnt claim to understand all people. Men and women can be totally rational, and in
real life, there exists many sides of a persons character. These stories focus on a bias.
The official hook-up guide for men is full of footnote referenced facts making it an easy to use selfhelp guide.
The eleven stories are grounded in real events, living people and situations inspired them. The
characters motivated from actual people have been fictionalized in order to protect their true
identities. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents have been
changed in order to guard peoples private lives. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1
Why I Cheat
Russell Carson enjoyed being a very small man with big thoughts. Great thoughts, even. He
understood that women preferred men with big dicks. He functioned with a powerful mental-will
bundled into his diminutive, fair-skinned body, and, despite his size, he tackled one of the most
fundamental and complex behavioral paradigms of the human experience. His endeavor consisted of
understanding, and in turn explaining, to othersstarting with his wifethe nature of mans sexuality
and lust.
His eyes were weakened from years of poring over texts in the library, yet Russells goal was to
unravel the epistemology of desire. He hoped and prayed that he would logically and scientifically be
able to explain his sex urges to his wife, Beth, if he could just summon the bravery to approach the
topic.
For three years, he plotted his weekly biorhythms against the phases of the moon and his inner
urges; making notes, he calendared, charted, documented, and deduced his findings.
Every day, he feverishly dwelt upon this matter, even while working at his job at the US Census
Bureau, San Antonio branch, analyzing data on his computer. Einstein once said if you cant explain
something simply and clearly, it means you dont understand it well enough. Before presenting his
findings to his wife, and afterwards to the world, Russell made sure he identified the root of the
problem and analyzed it thoroughly.
As a qualified mechanical engineer with a firm grasp on statistics, he foresaw his wifes reaction to
his truthful announcement. Russell, youre a no good, mother-fucking bastard. Youll never amount to
anything.
Gee, Beth, its just a theory, he would sheepishly go back to his research.
Russells limbs tingled knowing the day would come when hed explain his actions. His heart
pounded at the thought of dragging the full realness out and exposing it. Perhaps a man who didnt
love his wife felt no qualms about lying to her, but such an act taxed Russell deeply. He over-thought
about his secrets and hunted to release these dark and hidden ghosts out into the open air. Until he
seized the courage to confront this problem, hed camouflage and disguise his true nature from Beth.
How on earth are you ever going to explain, in terms of chemistry and physics, such an important
biological phenomenon as lust? The all-knowing Albert Einstein asked. And here Russell wrestled,
trying to find an explanation.

Russell contemplated: True, Einstein pondered more about love than lust, but where is the line
between those two? If this confused Einstein, no wonder it confused women. Did Einstein, like me,
keep these truths for himself? Did his great mind withhold the truth?
Love is difficult to define. How do you avoid confusing it with infatuation or lust? Philosophers
and poets have attempted to discover what love is for years. From Corinthians to the Beatles,
everyone has had a theory.
Is love really all you need? Wondered Russell, What verb is used more often and less
accurately? Is the love of I love sushi the same as I love God?
What part of ones body is involved during lovemakingheart or dick? When we refer to the
prowess of the Latin Lover, do we praise his ability to serenade and recite poetry, or do we admire
the passion and stamina he brings to a sweaty fuck-fest?
Love is giving someone the power to break your heart, but trusting them not to break it. Love is
never having to say youre sorry. Oh, really? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved
at all. Really? In short, the word love is the number one condiment of the English vocabulary; its
the sauce you can splash on any dish.
Russell, while sleeping, had a recurring dream with his current lover.
I love you, Russell. His girls body went limp, her mind wandering.
I love you, too. Russells eyes surveyed the ceiling.
And I love that you tell me about all the other women you fuck. She touched his leg, her fingers
walking up his thigh and spurring his member to prick up.
Want to hear more? He placed both hands on his chest.
Tell me about fucking in the back of that abandoned car. That turns me on. She leaned into him,
her hand cupping his manhood, her lips pressing against his hands. As soon as the sex grew to an
almost explosive size, the dream stopped. Russell often woke with warm fuzzy sex-memories of the
dream. He enjoyed these visits immensely.
It had been three years since Russell and Beth Carlson had tied the proverbial knot and begun
their marriage.
Beths olive skin and willowy body, combined with her high-octane personality, so full of spunk
and energy when she scurried around as a youngster that her mother nick-named her Spitfire,
encapsulating everything Russell adored. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her unhappy: he
couldnt stand causing pain, and yet, could he stay mentally healthy by keeping his secret about his
real self, thrashing inside his brain?

Russell hated his short and scruffy appearance, which always made a bad first impression on
women. His physical looks ill-suited to play the Knight in White Armor; he resorted to the Joker role,
and did everything in his power to make women laugh. Russell developed a thick skin to shield him
from the pain of the many rejections he encountered, but his small, gaunt frame always bothered him.
He looked more like a fourteen-year-old immature or ill boy than a fully-developed adult.
At his office in the Transit Tower Building, Russell settled himself in front of a computer all day
with legs crossed, twisted like a pretzel, and over years, he developed a small humpback. To add
insult to injury, Mother Nature, that heartless bitch, saw fit to afflict him with a skin condition of
blotched white pasty patches. He covered his skin with a high turtleneck and long sleeves. And it is
Russell, the blotchy-skinned Hunchback of Notre Dame de San Antonio, who bravely decided to take
a stand for all men by saying the untold truth.
Perhaps because Russell felt like a real loner, an outsider, that his loneliness necessitated a calling
out, to be understood, to have his inner struggle acknowledged. His loss, when it came to genetics and
social skills, would be all of mans gain.
One thing Russell did have, which so many of his male counterparts lacked, was spirit. And with
this spirit, he had enough hope to take action; an action some might call gallantry.
Russell thought back to before his marriage; despite his skin condition and scrawny body, he had
joined a gym in his adopted hometown of San Antonio. It wasnt easy because conservative Texan
men looked down on him with suspicion. Was he really one of them? They decided not.
At the gym, they mocked and bullied him mercilessly; in the shower and the weight room, they
teased him and called him an oddball. There was only so much taunting a man could take, and so, in
desperation, Russell enrolled in a private yoga class. He knew the rednecks would never be caught
dead there. It didnt hurt that the Art of Yoga was taught by a slender, svelte beauty named Beth
Waymen.
For months, he talked with Beth and made jokes about the evocative yoga positions. He spoke in
subtle ways; he didnt want to offend anyone. He caused enough mischief to get smiles from Beth, and
with time, he turned her smiles to giggles and her giggles to laughter, and, after months of relentless
but casual flirting, he mustered up enough courage to ask her out for coffee, and she said yes.
That sunny day, they sat outside on a terrace and ordered frozen lattes.
I love the yoga classes. He placed a hand to his forehead like a salute.
Its good for the body. Beth looked him up and down.
Maybe it would be safer for me if we sit inside. Russell motioned his hand toward the door.
How so? she asked. Beth wore her sundress like only a yoga instructor could; her olive body
appeared tanned and flawless. Russell concluded that the sundress was a very lucky dress indeed.

Well, Beth er a, can I call you Beth?

She nodded, shooting Russell a look. Youve called me Beth since we met.
Oh, yeah right. Well, Beth, if your boyfriend sees us together, he might get the wrong idea. He
scrunched his face into a squirrely, scared look.
She smiled. Maybe it wouldnt be the wrong idea. She winked at Russella wink with such
subtlety he felt he may have imagined it. Youre assuming I have a boyfriend.
Well, do you? Russells cheeks got hot, and he couldnt tell whether it came from embarrassment
or pleasure.
Men around here are not whats the word Im looking for mmm well, they strut around like
John Wayne, and Im more of a Woody Allen kind of gal.
Russell restrained himself, and did not jump up and down clapping his hands; for once, looking like
a nerdy Hobbit played in his favor.
Beth explained that she was originally from San Francisco, which was much more sophisticated.
Men and women there understand each other. Men in San Antonio still think its the Wild Southwest
and women should be treated like cattle and ridden like horses.
How did you wind up here? He pulled his shirt sleeves nervously down to his wrists, first one,
then the other, tugging as far as the sleeve would pull to cover his embarrassing skin splotches. It was
a nervous habit of his.
Air Force. She took a long, slow sip of her drink, and crossed her legs. I served three years as
Uncle Sams physical trainer; I was good at it, too, and moved up to Staff Sergeant. Then, she
faltered, and glanced around the cityscape surrounding them, as if awaiting interruption. Then, well,
my fianc was killed in Iraq. He was a grunt, an Army foot soldier. A shadow passed over her eyes.
Russell sighed and nodded sympathetically. Im sorry.
Yeah, its all right. So, I was discharged here and landed this job right off. She waved her petite
hands in front of her. Im not ready for San Francisco again yettoo many early screwed up
romance memories.
Russell had been single for years, and had avoided getting close to anyone, although he had had
plenty of sex. He could tell that Beth liked him. She enjoyed his conversation, and he made her laugh,
which she had not done in a long time.
She paused to look him in the eye. Russell was always unsure about girls signals, and worried he
might misinterpret them. He always stood careful not to cross a line, and, without a word, he laid his

hand on the table, midway between them. She smiled understandingly and covered his hand with hers.
Her yoga studio was attached to a gym in the basement of the Transit Tower on the southern edge of
downtown, not too far from the historic King William District with its huge, lovely trees and fabulous
old homes. His Census Bureau offices were on the 25th floor of the same building.
Geographic proximity helped them become closer. Midday coffees became date nights, which
became overnight excursions. Their friendship blossomed in a short time, and both of them were
caught unawares by how strongly they felt for one another. It wasnt long before Russell popped the
question.
What did you say?
Will you marry me? He nervously tugged his sleeves down, first one, then the other.
Sure, I love you, Russ. Do you love me?
No, Im planning on murdering you, but I cant collect the insurance unless were hitched. He
giggled nervously.
Beth laughed and punched Russell lightly in the chest.
No, but really, Beth, Ive fallen in love with you. Youre more important to me than anything else
in the world.
On their honeymoon in nearby Kerrville, they visited the Hill Country Museum downtown, and
paddled a canoe down the Guadalupe River. It was here that Russell first attempted to breach his
secret belief about lust, to which he thought she might slap him and yell, We are done! He locked
the hush-hush conversation inside his head again.
The honeymoon wasnt an appropriate time to disclose to the woman he loved about his
philandering wanderings. He wondered if Einstein kept impetuous desires to himself. He felt it was
safer to hold onto his secret for the time being.
He started to write out these secrets:
For years, masculinity has been under attack. The attack is by women against men. It is cloaked
in subterfugemans masculinity is attacked by way of women refusing to acknowledge it.
If you tell her, or if she finds out about this male truth, she will bitch. She will yell, scream, slap,
push, and hit you! She will meet you at the door every night sniffing for the scent of a woman.
She will call you one hundred times a day. She will nag at you daily and make your life a living
hell! It is a fact your girl will hound you so much youll want to make her a domestic abuse
statistic! The good news is fighting back would be easy, and today a simple tactic can reverse the
tides of masculinity-shaming. Women must stop and understand. The bad news is mens instincts
have become so vilified that the simplest measures to preserve them will come under unfettered,

unkind scrutiny. All men fear the violent and bombastic rages from their girls. Think of thatif a
man wants to be a man, simply by having the one desire, he will encounter fierce opposition and
make quick enemies. Women are not as angry with their man as they are jealous of other women.
Women hate other women in their mens lives in any way. Womens jealousy is the killer.

Russell printed his musings and truths about men, read it over and over, and grew angry and
frustrated with each read. No, this isnt it! God, it sounds like I hate women! I dont hate women. I
love them, and I love my wife.
He crumpled the paper up and slammed it in the waste basket; he then deleted the document from
his computer.
Ive got to go deeper! Its not an intellectual explanation. I need to use the results from my threeyear experiment, charting and measuring, and go further than ever before. This is more than
mental games on this subjectthere is something raw and real that I have to get out!

On the night of their third anniversary, Russell treated Beth to her favorite Italian restaurant, where
they drank two bottles of Chianti, and then enjoyed a boat ride on the San Antonio River. Romantic
gestures were not his forte, but that night, he pulled it off. Awkward and self-conscious about his
appearance, he tried to fake his confidence.
As a youngster, Russell remembered people thinking his skin condition might be contagious, and
they recoiled away from him to avoid contact, making him wary of social situations. As a defense
mechanism, he developed a sort of humorous bravado that women found intriguing. Here, with Beth,
he didnt need any defense mechanismsshe loved him and his patchy skin. She would kiss them in
the dark after nights of passion, her fingers trailing invisible lines down his back as they lay in bed.
At night, as they lay side by side on the rose petals he had strewn on the carpet in the warm glow of
many scented candles, Beth took him by surprise. From out of nowhere, with the suddenness of a
Texas Blue Norther, she blurted out something that Russell thought was a silly question for an
anniversary evening.
Are you happy these days? Her lips pursed in apprehension.
Russell thought for a moment. Maybe it wasnt so silly. He hugged her tight. Im happy with you
and my job, hon. I dont want to change a thing. He gave a half laugh. I wish my skin wasnt so
pasty though, so splotchy. I dont know how you can stand me sometimes. He pulled on his sleeves
as he always did when he thought of his condition.
Beth playfully slapped his chest. Oh, stop it. I do love you. Im downright captivated by you,
partner, she moved to get closer to him.

Tonight, Russell knew she drank a little too much wine at dinner, and whenever she did, she
typically became more outspoken; her mothers little Spitfire. He would keep his secret to
himself for now.
You know, Russ, Beth said, I love you more than anyone else on this planet. Russell sensed
what was coming next:
Wheres the but? He fumbled with her hair.
The but?
He laughed. The but, Beth, the but. I love you buuuut . . . he repeated.
But your dandruff, honey, its all over the place. When you shake your head, it looks like a snow
globe. You know the ones you shake and theres snow floating everywhere. She waved a hand in the
air like fanning dandruff.
Ill take care of it tonight when I shower. He raked his hair with flighty hand movements,
scratching the top of his head, generating even more dandruff. Thanks for letting me know.
Theres something else bothering me, she segued. I have an odd feeling inside I dont like very
much. Is there something youre not telling me?
Actually, there is. Its something Ive been working on for a long time, he gazed into the distance.
You can tell me, dear. You can tell me anything. Please, no secrets.
ImIm Russell faltered.
Yes? Youre what? Her mouth opened waiting for a morsel of a secret.
Im Jack the Ripper. Russell moved on top of Beth, the two laughing like idiots. Russell grabbed
her wrist and peppered her neck with kisses as she playfully resisted. Or Batmanyes, Im
Batman!
Batman is sexieryes, youre Batman.
They embraced for a while, but once the mood passed, there fell another silence. He hoped to
disarm her by derailing her question. It didnt worknot when she was inebriated. Again, they lay
side by side, while she looked up at him from her spot on his shoulder.
Sometimes you disappear and I dont know where you go. Where do you go?
God no! Did she see my trashed attempts to explain? Russells heart pounded, but he kept his

voice soft. His thoughts froze for a moment. You know I love you . I just go out. Im a
wandering man, doll. You married a wanderer.
Oh. Her arms went limp as sleep began to take over.
Honest, to make us happier, Ill tell you all about it, someday.
Okay.
She seemed to accept this answer, and soon after fell asleep. He carried her into the bedroom and
tucked her into bed. She snored gently.
Russell slipped out of the front door, closed it stealthily, and walked off into the night with thoughts
he struggled to explain to himself, let alone to others. Next time she asks, he thought, I must tell her
the truth. I must share my secret. Then, Russell headed over to St. Marys Street to get laid.

When Beth awoke the next morning, she missed her early Saturday yoga class at the studio. She
phoned and spoke with her boss about a throbbing headache in a fake throat-cough voice. She didnt
say the words monster hangover, but he understood.
She wandered into their 100-year-old living room and found Russell curled up like a little boy on
the couch with his knees under his chin. God, she thought, hes such an innocent-looking guy, but hes
hiding something.
She covered him with a blanket from the bedroom and went into the kitchen to make coffee. She
knew she had had much too much to drink the night before, and when she remembered vaguely that she
had told Russell he looked like a snow globe because of his dandruff, and now, she was embarrassed.
But then she thought about what else she might have said, but couldnt remember. She was mortified.
By early afternoon, Russell woke to find a fresh bouquet of white roses in a vase on the coffee
table by the couch, along with a thermos of coffee and a plate with two glazed donuts. Beths neatlypenned note read,
Please forgive me for drinking too much wine on our anniversary. Lets drive up to Kerrville
for dinner.
Love, Beth
He drank the coffee, ate the donuts, and, while showering, thought of a way to present his secret to
her. At work the day before, hed completed his analysis of an interim census survey, and this had
pleased his boss so much, he was told to take the afternoon off as a reward. But instead, Russell
locked the door to his small office. He thought of a new approach and composed Plan B, his
Manifesto of the Dominant Male. In this, he explained his secret in heartfelt and simple terms Albert
Einstein would have loved.

But would Beth love it, or even understand it? His knees quivered as he weighed the pros and
cons, as he had a million times before. He would feel guilty if her reaction were negative, but if she
willingly wanted to break out of her old ideas and embrace the truth, then that would be something
else.
No, he decided. She would probably hate it. He thought he should tear the paper up and toss it into
the trash.
Fuck it. He stretched his arms over his head, working out the kinks. The truth will have to do,
honesty, and the honest to God truth is women do not really want to understand us men; they just have
their idea of what we are, and they want us to conform to it. His eyes were dry from looking at his
monitor for so long. He flexed his fingers, cracked his knuckles, pulled his shoulders back, and
planned for the worst while hoping for the best, before marching out of the office. On the way home,
he tried to speculate the outcome of his upcoming conference with his better half.
When Beth returned from grocery shopping, they hugged, and he dutifully helped put away the food.
They drove north to the Hill Country for dinner at Der Lindenbaum Restaurant and Biergarten in a
beautiful historic limestone edifice built by the German pioneers who founded Fredericksburg over a
century ago. The atmosphere was cozy, comfortable, and friendly. The chef-owner, Ingrid Hohmann,
served up German specialties, such as schnitzel, steaks, great sandwiches, and homemade bread.
They were both in the mood for something sweet, so they skipped dinner and ordered desserts
instead. They shared their two favorite puddings, apple strudel and Black Forest cake. It
commemorated their honeymoon.
A million stars looked down on them as they drove home, while the radio featured a San Antonio
western band strumming and singing Your Cheating Heart, a Hank Williams classic. Beth rested her
head on Russells shoulder and placed her hand on his thigh. He stared straight ahead down the
highway, and when he slowed a bit to let an armadillo scurry across the road, the movement of his leg
suddenly made him aware of a substantial erection.
At home, after a quiet game of chess ending in stalemate, they went to the bedroom. His hands
moved along her calves which were so perfectly sculpted by the yoga exercises.
He lay close to her with his head facing down while hers faced up, and he buried his face between
her thighs. With purpose and delicateness, he explored her pink folds with his tongue, and she
wrapped her lips around him and took him in her mouth.
They merged into a single being, a living yin-yang symbol-with no beginning and no end, only the
two of them extended into one another, without any thought beyond the need to feel and taste, drinking
in one another over the hours, sweats mingling, and every touch intoxicating them more. That was
love. His manifesto didnt explain loveit was about the other thing, the thing that wasnt love.
Could he make her understand? He simply must make her understandtomorrow.

Tomorrow came, and Russell became sidetracked by Beth. He walked across the room thinking of
T. S. Eliots question, Shall I eat a peach?
His answer came slowly from tasting the bottoms of her feet, where the skin glistened like light
brown than olive and tasted of the leathery salt of her sandals. These were the feet that trod upon the
grapes upon the sides of the Rif Mountains at Ksar el Kebir in Morocco where she once vacationed
with her now-dead soldier. He could still taste the wine. These were the feet that paced the flat, hardpacked sand of the beach at Asilah when there was no hope left for her first love blown to bits by an
IED. These were the feet that bathed in the essence of peach amid bubbles an hour or so ago when
they returned from Fredericksburg. Her heels bore just enough roughness to taste of pumice stone. He
suckled her ankles like they were four tits of a delicately masterful sculpture in polished marble,
though no marble had ever given such delicate nectar as the traces of perspiration held in tiny crinkles
so near the bones beneath her skin. He felt he had indeed tasted the essence of her marrow. They fell
asleep, and Russell dreamed.
I love you, Russell. Beths body went limp, her mind wandering.
I love you, too. His eyes danced about the ceiling.
And I love that you tell me about all the other women you fuck. She touched his leg, her fingers
walking up his thigh and spurring his member to prick up.
Want to hear more? He placed both hands on his chest.
Tell me about fucking in the back of the old abandoned car. That turns me on. Beth leaned into
him, her hand cupping his manhood, her lips pressing against his hands.
Russell awoke exploding with urges. It turned midnight. His dream died; he would have to tell Beth
next weekend, and he bet the conversation would go nothing like his dream. Right now, the planets
orbital mysteries pulled him out of bed and into the night. He was called to find a womanany
womanto pound like hell.

The following Sunday, after a champagne brunch on the river at La Mansion, Russell sat Beth down
on the couch in the living room and stood with one elbow on the fireplace mantle. He wore his dark
grey suit, blue shirt, and red power tie; she relaxed in a summery chiffon dress of a light opal. She
kicked off her sandals and curled her feet under her bottom, so only her knees showed. He handed her
a copy of his Manifesto of the Dominant Male.
Im going to read this to you because I intend to publish it in a full-page advertisement in the
newspaper. This is real honesty. He pulled his shirtsleeves down and buttoned them to give himself
countenance.
Beth smiled agreeably and nodded in anticipation. I cant wait. She cocked her head, one arm

extended along the back of the couch, fully attentive, but without looking at her copy of the manifesto.
He cleared his throat.
Dont interrupt, now. Even if you get mad, okay? he told her, holding a palm out towards her for a
second.
Her brow ruffled slightly, but she nodded.
Sure, hon.
I made you a drink, just relax for ten minutes.
Then he read in a clear and articulate voice:

Manifesto of the Dominant Male

There is a war, a battle against half of the worlds population. The age-old battle of the sexes and
mans struggle for freedom can be solved. Disturbingly, women in general, and wives in
particular, do not recognize mans masculinity, and always tell us to be a man. Therefore, I
declare, in my name and for every man on the planet, this one quintessential certainty: Sex and
love are not one and the same. Men must ensure the survival of the human race through sex. We
are consumed by sex, and have no choice. A mans need to pass on his genetic material is a
natural compulsion that is deep-seated. Sex is the sine-qua-non condition of all living things. It is
as natural as eating and relieving oneself. Sometimes, men just have sex, and thats it. No love,
no feelings, nothing but the act, like the bonobo ape.
Russ. Beth held up a hand, chuckling. Which newspaper are you going to use? How about the
San Antonio Light? It has a full comic section. She spread her arms wide.
You think Im joking, do you? Russell looked at her pointedly. There was no stopping now. I
thought you said you wouldnt interrupt.
I didnt know it would be something like this. Did you join a Mens Club or something? She
clasped one hand around her svelte waist, cuddling into the couch. If youre not joking, this is
seriously weird.
Beth, youre one in a million. Most women live with men who are too weak and too fearful to tell
the truth about who they really are. Try to listen, try to understand Isnt a harsh, but wholesome
honesty better than the illusion of sickly-sweet fiction? His fingers trembled as his head angled
toward the paper.
She sighed. Go on. You have five minutes, and then I have to go out.
Russell continued:

Sex and love are like oil and water: often found floating on top or under the other, but not mixing.
I, and my male brethren, do not equate love with sex. In fact, we are comfortable loving one
woman and having sex with others. Sex with multiple women is cheating, but only so because
women unfairly penned the rulebook. Men are, in the deepest recesses of our mind,
accomplishing the innate task imposed upon us by nature. This primal impulse is not originating
in the conscious mind or heart, but from a place embedded in each man; it is the universe acting
through us.
Okay, I think Ill have that drink now. Beth laughed nervously. Im not sure I can take this
seriously or not.
Good, this will be good for our marriage. Youll learn more about me.
Russell continued:
My girls suspicion and distrust can be conquered, but not by forcing men to act against their
nature. Not by crippling the fabric of manly instincts. Human design pushes me towards sexual
freedom. Its the universal obligation keeping hominids from extinction, and it is time the world
caught up with this fact. My primal impulse is not premeditated, it doesnt originate in my brain
or in my heart, its the universe acting through me; it stirs inside me a couple times a cycle. I
work all day and stay busy, yet a severe craving overpowers me. I feel it gnawing inside; it
wont lessen until there is the finishing point. Late at night, I consent to these persuasions; they
take over.
I dont get this, Beth rubbed her forehead. If youre serious, your logic is out the window. You
were absolutely the most generous lover last night. Dont tell me theres no feeling in our sex. You
cant possibly be like this with anyone else. Her lips pressed into a smirk.
Youre not listening. Please, listen to me. Sex and love might not always go hand in handyes
but, listen
Go on, she sighed deeply. I dont like where this is going one bit, though, just for the record.
Mmm. He shuffled his papers and continued:
During the hunt, my senses peak on extreme vigilance and I chase with no specific direction in
mind. A dangerous itch consumes me while I search along a pathway etched with invisible foot
prints. A yearning in my loins directs me, involuntarily led by the nights secrets. Waves of lust
gush over my essence, aiming me toward an unknown engorged clitoris. I sniff out a conduit,
pursuing prey in heat. Im seduced headlong; bounding me to the hunt.
Russell, where is the part that Im going to like? She took a big gulp of her cocktail.
Ive worked on a long time on this, so just enjoy, Russell felt powerful that he was finally telling.

Dont piss me off, Beth pointed a straightened finger toward his head.
Russell read more:
I see a dark alley, a shady wooded area, or a dilapidated dive of a club, and sense the loot is in
there. In my attempt to sleep, the energy devours my mind, stuffing it with visceral masculinity. I
awake from a lusty dream. Night has fallen. It is dark in my room, pitch black, but I know the
woman sleeping softly next to me has not roused. I do not take notice of her. There is a yearning,
a deep-seated, diffused quiver rolling inside of me. I scavenge out on the sex-skulk. It overtakes
me in waves as I move, pursuing prey in heat, my mind static, but for that one urge. The trajectory
I follow is different every time. Im like a homing pigeon discovering the way home. Im a
penguin trooping toward a desolate mating place. I follow fragrances that have no scent. I seek to
find someone with no distinct image. I crave ripe eggs begging for sperm. I spirit along roads
without a map and travel unknown pathways in the darkness. I navigate unmarked thoroughfares,
sail across uncharted oceans. I always find the target. Its always there. Its pleading to be hit; a
celestial bulls-eye beseeches me.
Christ, Russell, you sound like a total idiot. Do I have to listen to this crap? She slapped one
palm on her thigh and straightened her spine.
You must, Ive been telling you this forever. You always say, Start by telling me the truth. Now I
tell you the truth, and you call me an idiot. You think Im the only one who feels this way? Youre
wrong. Your father, your brothers, heck! Even the pastor of your parish feels like this! All men are
subject to the same desires, the same compulsions. No one else is talking, but I am. Theyre all
cowards, but believe me, like it or not, this is the absolute truth.
But you sound like an uncivilized animal.
Maybe I am?
Okay, if you say so. She tugged at her blouse.
Russell read:
I take the target long, hard, and deep. Its deliberate and complete. Once done, Im driven toward
a second, a third, and more encounters, sometimes in the same night. Afterwards, when I awake
beside the woman I love, I am truly happy. Then once again, like a fish finding spawning grounds;
an Aboriginal mystery, I caress my atavistic endeavors. My attraction is beyond aroused; its a
captivating body rush hurtles me onwards, endlessly. I watch in horror at what this drive is doing
to my life and relationships. There is no possibility to fight its hold.
So youve become goddamn Sigmund Freud now? Do you dream of railroad trains ramming into a
tunnel? What a kook you are! Her eyes flared.
This is for you; I did it for you.

Like hell you did! You did it for you! Russell S. Carlson, youre a no-good, mother-fucking
bastard!
Gee, Beth, its just a theory. He sheepishly ruffled his papers.
Ive heard enough of this shit, her eyes blasted into his. I thought you were kidding, but now I
see in your face, your eyes youre obsessed, Russell. You need help. But I cant imagine any
woman therapist putting up with such horseshit. She folded her arms tight.
Just hush and listen, Beth. This is important to our marriage.
Are you telling me that you actually go out and cheat on me at night when Im sleeping? Her face
crunched up.
Im trying to explain it as best as I can. Its not my fault. Its the way men are designed.
You asshole. Youre telling me you go out fucking while Im asleep? Christ, what have I done to
deserve this? You expect me to go along with your stupid manifesto? She sputtered and spat.
Just listen, thats all I ask. And try to understand please.
Fuck you! she shouted, tears welling. She stomped both feet on the floor, sat straight up on the
couch; hands doubled into fists, and pounded the couch.
Russell kept going:
Tonight the moon is in orbital alignment and a perfect circle shape. It is time to stand up and be a
man. The bright heavenly orb adds millions to the worlds emergency rooms. When the time is
ripe, I am a werewolf ready for hard sex acts. Its a pitch-black night set alight by a full moon. I
am the moon, and I am the beast called forward. My howls are the howls of a highland wolf.
High tides create and churn sensations; secrets buried inside me detonate. A flood of hormones
washes through my every organ. Im in the grip of an unquenchable sex-thirst. Im lurched on a
darkened hill howling with hunger at the full moon. A tidal force rules and I taste raw sex
between each lust-starved yowl. The moon beams a smile back at me, fuelling my aching inner
beast. Im influenced by a gravitational interaction. My open-mouthed wolf howls ricochet
across fogged highlands. Im dominant, manly, and chock-full. Breaking into a run, I am dutybound, leaping majestically over obstacles and knolls. I journey down beaten paths; my senses
are honed on finding my quarry, hastened by a full-on gust from a powerful drug gripping my
loins.
You insane out-of-your-mind jerk! She shouted, ripping her copy of the manifesto in half. Youre
capturing thoughts and feeling of fucking? She reached down, stuffed half the manifesto in one sandal
and half in the second sandal. Capture this, you cheating, sick asshole! She tossed one sandal and
then the other.

Russell ducked. The shoes bounced off the wall and came to rest on the mantelpiece.
Why dont you want to understand men? If you can, life will be good for us. He held a hand out
like a beggar.
Russell, if you really believe this horseshit and you are really out there every night cheating on
me, then there is no us. This bullshit is destroying everything.
Hear me out, Beth. The truth should be constructive, darling.
Dont you darling me, you pervert. She stood up and grabbed the vodka bottle and poured it into
her glass, then gulped it down.
Let me read.
Animal reflexes waterfall inside my body where cavities are welling up with supreme power. I
attack with unpolluted energy and she attacks back. Sex ensues, rough and hard. Shes absconded
and left quivering in a post-coital ecstasy, dazed and undulating. She has been taken like she was
never taken before. In her whimpers and writhings it is clear this pleasure I have endowed in her
is unlike anything shes experienced. I dont know her. I forget her. I leave right away so no
emotions stir between us. I look back, knowing she categorically sought it too. The kill is left
gasping and I go on to another magnetic connection. Its mutual. When this planet-sized sex organ,
this irredeemable lust arrests me, I am merely its vessel. Im in its tractor beam; I cant escape. I
dont struggle; the whirling vortex destroys all other thoughts and white noises. A cosmic gravity
guides me near unfertilized eggs and the private universal dance of biological conception moves
me grandly without thought. While on pursuit, if I knew how to howl, beckoning it, I would. If
there were sounds to call partners toward me, Id produce them. If I knew an odor to appeal to
others, Id emit it. Theres no calling. There are no emissions. I primordially sense her ripe
ovulation cycle. Then when Im doing it, muffled moans and nails on skin and the measured
motions of it produce no lyrics. Theres no talking. Time holds no relevance. Only after I am
sated do I notice the time, notice where I am, release recognition to my growling stomach. My gut
squirms, asking for nourishment. Im hungry. I must eat. Todays chase is over. The quest is
ended. My mind thinks of food. Thirty minutes go by and I imagine my warm bed, the covers and
pillow. Only then do I think of my family; only after such intercourse, do I think of my wife.
Shit! Beth slurred. Im last on your fuck list?
No, I love you, this is just sex.
What if you fall in love with one of your conquests?
No, its impossible. See, love and sex are two different things!
Fuck you! Youre making me sick! She drank another big gulp of vodka.

Russell went back to reading:

When this primitive desire is in control, my mind isnt thinking of her, my home, or my love. My
mind is focused on one thing: Im exposing and attacking new meat. Im single-mindedly targeting
an erotic outlet; oblivious to other feelings, Im focused on the sexual act. Its not about a
relationship, its about unadulterated fucking. Theres no love, just sex and more sex. I dont
think of how I look nor does it matter to me how she looks. I feel nothing towards her. She might
be pretty, she might be ugly. I dont take note. Im caught inside a gravitational force and am
being hauled into the heaving center of a dynamic black hole in space. Seeking the black holes a
passion shared by every man. Men are unwavering in this common motivation. Im not sure if
anyone fully fathoms how deeply hard-wired it is, or knows how to explain it. I doubt others talk
truthfully about it. Im not certain in what manner the oomph is triggered. My entire biorhythms
peak at their maximum levels, simultaneously igniting the sex-hunger, revving my engine into a
searing, greased, pounding machine, hitting on all cylinders.
Black holes?! Black holes are what I have instead of eyes? How could I be so blind? Beth
emptied the last of her drink and hurled the glass at Russell, but it missed him and shattered on the
floor.
A nice analogy? He avoided the missile, but expected it.
Revving your engine!
Its just like that, he whispered.
Im fucking sick! If all men are like you, then men are sick! Sick, sick, sick!
Russell could not stop now.
It starts with a touch or a look, and then the mystery desire asserts its predominance. Im deep
into it; the orbital alignments; movement of the moon and tides; the universal need to impregnate
conquers me. I know all men have these desires. You hear men say I dont know why I cheated; I
made a mistake. These answers are the result of man trying to explain the necessity of fulfilling
an urge to a public who denies the validity of the urge. Isnt it possible men have compulsions
they cant restrain? Men dont understand these energies. They are moved by them independently
of their will, like the puppet dangling at the end of a string, and nature, the invisible puppeteer,
makes them dance. Women always tell us to be a man. Grow up and be a man, they say, and
thump their feet. If a man talks about cheating, women are angered; oftentimes they become cruel.
Its a predictable response, so most men keep silent, not wanting to cause pain on their love.
Silence is mans need to protect his loveoverrides all else, so he lies. When or if finally
discovered, he is a liar. So men are liars and cheaters. Its a no-win situation for men. Guys who
speak up will deal with a woman who never stops arguing. Who wants to argue every day? Who
can stand her yelling? Men dont want to tackle that type of life.

I think Im going to leave!

Stay, please. Russell continued:
Ladies, this is what being a man is all about. No manlier can a man be. I dont think men are
capable of telling their women this truth. Its something men should control, but no man can fully
do that. Not Man, but Mother Nature is in charge.
Beths face looked beat down with dark circles under her eyes. She rose from the couch, ignored
Russell, retrieved her sandals, and said, Is that all, Mister Man? Because if it is, Im packing a bag
and you can drop me at the train station. Her face raged with ugly crevasses of skin.
No, wait. He motioned for her to stay.
If you loved me, you wouldnt cheat on me, Beth whispered; her words wobbled awkwardly out
of her mouth.
Thats a myth, an old and untrue wives tale. Im able to love and cheat all at the same time,
Russell said.
Fuck you.
Im almost finished. He made a stop gesture.
You can say that again!
If only women could understand this uncomplicated truth, the world would be a more congenial
place. The truth is simply men cant stop. This is being a man. Thats what women always argue
about. Be a man. We seek freedom to practice our natural predispositions. We must
independently roam, explore, and hunt. Thats what this manifesto is all aboutletting women
know the truth about men; we dont cheatwe act like a man!
Mans Manifesto of Action:
1) Listen closely to your inner angel. Let it guide and fulfill your biological destiny.
2) Tell your girl of these urges and your plan to embrace them. Live in reality.
3) Spread the word. Be unashamed and proud.

Is thisshe searched for the word to properly invoke her feelingsthis bullshit, is it true?
Her voice was ice. Beths brain was gone, the loving, kind, and understanding Beth he knew
transformed. She spoke to him like he was a rock.
With a sigh, Russell shut his eyes. Beth now acted like his enemy. Yes. It I this is what I
wanted to tell you for a long time. I wrote it at work, brought it home, hoping it would bring us closer
together if you knew my truth.
Together? You she broke off, a solid lump in her throat forcing tears down her cheek. My

husband has lost his mind. She hardened her gaze and rose.
He went over to her, but she threw up her hands. No, no. Youre crazy. You hear me? That should
be called the Manifesto of the Insane. She threw the manifesto at him, the loose pages falling to the
hardwood.
She shrieked. The sound was so abrupt that it shocked Russell. You hear me? You are fucking
crazy! We are done!
Beth, wait
No. Dont talk to me. She left the room.
In the next room, he heard her scream, I cant believe you! I hate you!
Presented with the truth, she shook to the core, and brewed hatred. He sat on the couch and awaited
her return.
Soon, a yellow taxi pulled up in front of their Crofton Street home, and Beth moved through the
living room to the door, lugging one suitcase.
Russell asked, Where are you going? He held out both arms. Beth!
She shook her head. There was nothing but silence once more. Well, yes, there was one thing more
thought nowthe sense of freedom Russell felt. He told the truth. Beth knew the truth now, and that
was a fact, and she decided. It was her choice now. He wondered what he should do with this new
knowledge.
The divorce papers read, Irreconcilable Differences.
That, too, was true, he thought.

Today
One surprising consequence after Russell told his truth to Beth became enlightenment and
awareness concerning his sexual needs, and learning never to hide them again. This is who he is as a
man. After the divorce, the anxiety of keeping secrets and living a lie stopped, with the huge weight
lifted off his shoulders. Today, Russell brings his refreshingly honest perspective about sex into the
beginning of all potential relationships. He easily builds a platform of freedom and honesty that he
never experienced in his relationship with Beth.
At this time, he dates a woman who steps out of the relationship once in a while to experience her
own freedom and sexual joy. And Russell loves the infrequent sex-hunts of his own. Every time he
goes out to hunt, he is empowered and reassured of his place as a complete man in the world. He
and his love share their adventures, which brings them closer together.
Russell did publish his Manifesto of the Dominant Male, but not in the Light Newspaper with its
colorful comics, as Beth sarcastically suggested, but in the competing San Antonio Express-News in a
full-page advertisement. This resulted in the National Organization for Women (NOW) picketing his
home with defamatory signs until the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) got a court order
prohibiting such tactics of repression and intimidation.
Russell felt secure in heading for Iceland after watching an enticing documentary on harnessing
earths natural heat had stimulated a profound interest in volcanic heating systems. His fascination
with using molten magma to heat our water supply struck a deep passion inside him; imagining cost
savings while reducing pollution. The idea that natures hot core could change how we source our
homes uses of warm water inspired him with hope that geothermal fields and hot springs would
enable uses for countless municipal advances.
It was not by chance that the idea of energy being generated by underground, unseen, but formidable
power seduced him. The whole idea of his manifesto came from beneath the surface of the male
psyche, where the Herculean power was ready to be harnessed if accepted and recognized. By
embracing his true nature, any man would be able to tap into this endless source of energy, and make
for himself a better life in a better world.
Russell never regretted leaving the security of his Census job to travel to Iceland, where he
capitalized on his engineering background to research thermal earth technologies in use. He embraces
the decision to switch careers from bureaucracy back to an engineering focus. Not being tied down by
matrimony, he owns the freedom to pursue this dreama dream where creativity encourages him to
do things beyond societys norm.
With his newfound life came an intuitive sense of altruism and the return of a genuine love for
things bigger than self.

Today, hes helping to create an improved world for all.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Men: Enjoy sexual opportunitiesthese are natural.iii iv v
Being monogamous is not natural for humans.vi vii
Men can love a woman and cheat at the same time.viii
70% Married men admit to cheating of their wives.ix
Men are compelled by nature to spread their seed far and wide.x
Marriage-monogamy is a great objective, but is hardly attainable.xi xii
Women are compelled by nature to birth and nurture children.xiii
There is more to being a man than providing for a family.xiv
Men: Tell your girl when you cheat even if she becomes violent.xv
Men are required to build our societies future infrastructures.xvi
Men naturally react to sex once offered by having sex in return.xvii
Men fear womens abuse when women think men cheat.xviii xix
Women may never understand the nature of men.xx xxi
Women want to change their mens natural inclinations.xxii xxiii

Chapter 2
Shellys Love Dream
Self-sufficient Shelly Payne, a 12-year-old, brown-haired, and determined mountain girl, easily
recognized by the damaged brown boots she wore for years, grew up a mamas girl in Beckley, West
Virginia, the largest city in Raleigh County. The city, locally known as the Smokeless Coal Capital, is
located in the heart of the coal-mining epicenter of the Appalachian Mountains, where rugged
Cumberland and Allegheny mountain plateaus surround the 17,600 residents who call Beckley home.
In Beckley, the springtime profusion of flowering wild azalea, rhododendron, and laurel is a wellknown tourist attraction in the area. The main street sits nuzzled between majestic, sweeping mountain
views, sloping rustic gorges, and pristine rivers, in isolation where mountain folk have lived off the
land since settlements in the early nineteenth century. Many of the towns men work hard labor at the
nearby mines and sawmill, then go to get drunk in order to forget the utter pointlessness of their lives.
Women wear hats inversely proportional to the size of their pet dog, which often indicate how
successful their search for a hardworking husband has been. God forbid any of the men do something
adulterous or hellishthis is Gods Country where hells fire can strike an outlaw dead.
Kissed by angels and reared by her mother, Shellys future shone bright, despite Beckleys struggle
with the EPAs improvement demands on the coal businesses. Today, mines operate, the mills and
trains roll, tourism and hydraulic fracturing companies boomprime factors in Shellys continuing
optimism and hope of increasing the towns population. Guiding her along lifes path is the family
tradition of church, and, fortunately, not the ungodly escapades of a drunken bum needing his cock
sucked by a whore.
At the age of nine, Shelly, like all her girlfriends, searched, yearning to find her place. For some
time, she knocked around from one hobby to the next, flitting between sewing and square dancing with
her cousins, and riding horses.
Mom, riding horses is so boring, her gaze bounced from place to place while she rearranged her
dirty brown hair. She felt uncomfortable around horses.
Dont get put out, hon, cause I reckon youll find somethin you really got a hankerin for soon
enuf, grey-haired, robust Mama Martha held her thick shoulders back, and chin high.
I doubt it! Shelly saw her thoughts stewing, in search of that one passion.
Before your daddy died in that terrible explosion that brung down the underground workings at the
Pocahontas Mines, Mama Martha sorrowfully recounted, he loved to ride horses along the Smokey

Mountain ridges hisself.

Youve told me that story a hundred times and I still dont like riding, Shelly eyebrows pulled
together and a familiar sinking feeling radiated from her gut to her chest.
Dont go poutin now, Mama wagged her finger.
I wont, Mama, Ill keep looking for a hobby She turned away to seek the quiet in the corner of
her room.
One afternoon, while lying on the couch ruffling through magazines, Shelly noticed an alluring
wedding photo. She remembered Mama telling her one day shed be married and happy, and the photo
roused something in Shelly, kindling a curiosity to know more.
Thats it, she whispered to herself. Her shining eyes looked heavenward as if answering a call
from God.
She turned toward her mom and asked with a newfound sense of clarity, Can you buy me the
Brides Magazine each month? She crossed her legs, placed the magazine in her lap, and rocked
slightly.
Whys that? her mama asked, leaning forward to hear better.
I like how pretty the bride looks, Shelly beamed and tapped her chin with two fingers. Im
gonna start a scrapbook of my favorite wedding photos. Itll be my new hobby, she proudly
proclaimed, pointing to the photos as her heart beat faster, imagining herself as the bride in the
magazine. I even dream about it.
Sure, hon, I pert-near got enough money for a spell. We can both enjoy. Youll be a pretty bride,
too, Mama Martha confirmed, tapping Shellys knee. Your wedding day will be the most important
day of yer life. She beamed at Shelly.
The best? her heart pounded.
Weve had tough times since Papa passed, Martha rocked.
My man will be a good provider, Shelly promised herself, and pulled the magazine to her chest
and held it in her arms as she stared off into space.
Thats important; there be good jobs around these days.
And well have three cars and a patio next to a big swimming pool, Shelly swore, clasping her
hands under her chin as if praying.
Youll be livin high on the hog here in Beckley, Martha said with a lustrous face.

I think I want one of those mink coats for the cold season, Shelly floated on air, dreaming about
her wedding and married life.
Martha smiled, and left Shelly lying on the couch with her cat, Sammy.
Most magical, Shelly gently pet Sammy. She buried her face in the wedding magazine and stared
deep into a handsome grooms face looking joyful and rich with his beautiful bride smiling next to
him.
Sammy turned onto her stomach.
Ill find a real man, one that treats me right because I can keep a house, and Mama taught me how
to butcher fresh meat and home cook, Shelly said. Ill be like one of those happy women in the
movies, like Audrey Hepburn.
She returned to this daydream daily, never imagining these words would ever cross her lips,
Youre disgusting! Youre an abomination in the eyes of God.
At just twelve years old, Shelly visualized her dream wedding featuring a groom who would be
strong, loving, hardworking, handsome, rich, and loyal. Hed hold her so tightly they would be
inseparable. His sweetness would always lift her spirits, and his handsomeness would tingle the
special place between her legs.
Itll be perfect, she told her mama one afternoon. I want the perfect wedding, blessed by God.
Youll see, Mama. Itll be perfect and well have beautiful children. She rubbed her hands together
and bounced lightly on her toes.
Mama Martha smiled. Im hopen so, Shelly. Youll be a beautiful bride.
Shelly didnt want to marry the first boy she met. She would be patient and wait before marrying
him; she would ensure he was indeed the ideal young man. She fantasized that, at the wedding, he
would charm everyone gathered by pronouncing his love and promising to cherish her and make her
happy forever.
At the altar, in front of the world, God, and Jesus Christ, he would proclaim his devotion. They
would honeymoon in Paris and ride around in a limo visiting all the famous places. At night, they
would kiss under the Eiffel Tower. Shelly dreamed that, upon their return, they would move into the
cutest gray house in Raleigh County, with a white fence and soft green grass, and immediately start a
family.
Time passed, and when Shelly turned nineteen, the seeds of her dreams began to flourish, noticing
the new man at Sundays service at the Memorial Baptist Church on Kanawha Street. At first glance,
he seemed so different from the others who attended the welcoming, but very cramped church. Her
heart beat and blood pounded through her veins taking in his admirable looks and very large, blackrimmed glasses looked bold, enhancing his narrow face. He caught her eye, and when he smiled,

Shelly felt her knees tremble, her face blushed.

The pastor, Mr. Thomas, preached a sermon from Deuteronomy. Pastor Thomas was a middle-aged
man with all the characteristics one would want in a genuine, Godlike country parson.
It is said in Deuteronomy 22:22 That if a man is found a-sleepin with another mans wife, both
the man who slept with her and the woman must die. You must purge the evil from Israel, the pastor
sermonized. He continued from Leviticus 20:10. It read, If a man commits adultery with another
mans wifewith the wife of his neighborboth the adulterer and the adulteress are to be put to
death.
Shelly raised her hands heavenward praising, Hallelujah! Yes, God! Little did she know that one
day she would need help so bad that she would plead for Gods mercy and shout, We need God in
our lives? God, please come down and help us!
At the moment, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the new man.
Shelly, her mama whispered, wagging a finger, stop staring over thar like a love-struck puppy.
Youll crick your neck. Were gonna sing.
Everyone rose to sing, so Shelly grabbed the music sheet and softly joined in.
A wonderful mountain voice shoulda always go up thar by the pastor and let her voice be heard,
her mama always said. But Shelly, who had a beautiful singing voice, would rather throw herself
from a tall mountaintop than sing in public.
In her heart, Shelly knew this new man was the onehe was the one and only. She noticed him
immediately: the glint in his eyes, his stature, his confident presence she knew he wanted all the
same dreams she did. Although she had never talked to him, she knew they were soul mates, destined
to become more.
Now, if only she could build up the courage to speak to him.
At last, the sermon ended, and Shelly walked toward her dream man. Suddenly, doubts flooded her,
and she felt a twisted knot in her stomach.
Oh, Shelly, her mother sighed, pushing her toward him, youre totally helpless, aint ya, girl?
Shelly took a deep breath and stumbled toward him again, nearly tripping over a child and knocking
her elbow painfully against the worn pew in the process. His powerful glasses gave him an
appearance of purpose, and when he smiled, Shelly felt her knees buckle and her solar plexus turn
into a swarm of butterflies.
She finally ended up directly in front of him, slightly disheveled.
Hi, he extended his hand. Shelly shook it with the stiffness of a mannequin. Despite his smooth

face, the mans hands felt rough with callouses. He must be a hard worker, Shelly thought.
I dont believe weve met, he stated politely. Im Dan Dan Jackson. Do you live around
here? he moved slightly closer. At this moment Dan felt as vulnerable as a boy in love for the first
time.
Yes. Im Shelly. People call me Shell, but I dont like that. I dont look like a seashell, do I? She
pointed to her chest. Mortified that those words actually left her mouth, she gasped, Wait! You dont
have to answer that.
Oh, God, she prayed silently, just smite me now. Im making a fool of myself right in your own
house.
Dan laughed, entertained by the girl, who was quite a bit shorter than he, and her awkwardness only
added to her attractiveness.
I dont think you look like a seashell, he pushed his forefinger against his glasses, scooting them
toward his brow. Seashells are beautiful, but youre positively radiant. He playfully nudged her
shoulder.
Shellys face flushed beet red. She felt a zing of electricity from the nudge.
If I may be so bold, Dan continued, Wanna share a coffee with me? He put his hand in the air
and crossed his fingers with a goofy smile.
Yes, Im nineteen now. Im free! Id be happy to Mr. Dan Jackson. Shelly nodded.
When they walked over to the Diner for coffee and first sat down in a booth, she couldnt help but
feel giddy. But, after sipping half a cup of the strong brew, Shelly soon found that Mr. Dream Mans
life experiences were not at all exciting. However, she pretended to be interestedafter all, he was
handsome and seemed rich.
While talking, Shelly discovered that Dan enjoyed hunting, fishing, and spending time outdoors. He
also managed the Elite Coal Company ten miles up Pine Run Road. That was impressive. He didnt
work underground, but rather up top in the offices, and often did double duty as a carpenter to
maintain the buildings. Shelly also found out that her Mr. Dream man had learned to hunt at the age of
six, and it was his favorite thing to do on his off days. So you see my heart lies in hunting, but it can
be changed.
Ive never been out of this town much. I love it here! I go to Charleston, West Virginia about every
month. Charleston is a much bigger place, Shelly said with a shrug.
Thats okay, Shell. Theres no need to be worldly, Dan told her in a slightly patronizing tone.
People come from all around to see our little town and the Exhibition Coal Mine Museum.

Shelly realized he was bragging as if it were worth mentioning. I suppose. I do like our
Appalachian ways and all, Shelly beamed.
I love how we have that law about having sex with an animal weighing less than 40 pounds will
send you to prison. Dan laughed.
Oh, I know. Shelly wanted to wrinkle her nose in distaste at the thought of a man having sex with
an animal, but instead, laughed along with Dan.
Dan drove Shelly home in his old, black pickup truck. When he stopped outside of her
downtrodden home, it took Shelly a moment to realize the truck had stopped. The air outside smelled
hickory-sweet and pine tree smoked all at once delicious, woody, and alluring. It automatically made
Shelly lick her lips. Dan pulled her close and kissed her. His man-odor made her insides quiver. She
had never kissed anyone before, but it felt natural and right to Shelly. Her heart raced and curiosity
spiked at the sight of Dans bulging area between his legs.
This was the beginning of Dan and Shellys romance. They spent many nights together, and Shelly
was sure they would spend the rest of their lives together as husband and wife.
They dated and saw each other at church weekly, and months later, he wanted to share his favorite
passion, so he invited her on a hunting trip. They drove seven miles away to New River Gorge. The
areas beauty bounded beyond anything she had imagined. The scenery left her speechless, with green
foliage everywhere, fresh air, and miles of mountains, waterfalls, ghost towns, and spectacular cliffs
accentuating peaceful setting.
They walked hand in hand in the forest, picking a place for a picnic near the river, so they could
watch an amazing sunset from the top of a hill. Dan showed her the plants he knew, those edible and
those poisonous. Dans loins burned to take her as he pointed out birds and told her their names, and
let her shoot his rifle at a row of cans he arranged as targets. Dan shared with her that he wanted to
hunt forever. That this was his true passion, and Shelly shared with him that she wanted to get
married, own a beautiful home, and have children.
Deep within the forest, Shelly felt that God answered her prayer by sending her Dan.
Dan hunted for deer in the fall, and fished for trout in the summer at Lake Stephens, a pristine
mountain lake. Shelly liked for him to fish there, because the odds were good he might catch some
trout for supper. She appreciated the fact that every man needed a little time by himself and with his
buddies. Whenever Dan went hunting, Shelly went shopping with Mama Martha in the nearest city,
Charleston West Virginia, 20 miles from Beckley.
Dan was a hunter through and through. He knew that not only did he love hunting animals, but he
might also love hunting women. It was in his nature to hunt. But he wasnt fully aware of his need to
hunt women just yet.
Dan returned from a Sunday outing in Cato, regaling Shelly with tales of the hunt. When he was

done, Shelly showed him the ceramic dolls she had found at a thrift store.
They stepped outside for some fresh air. Dan tapped Shellys shoulder from behind and motioned
for her to walk up Reservoir Ridge with him, where they could enjoy a splendid view of New River
Park. He hummed to himself while they walked.
Where we going? Shelly asked with a short skip in her step.
Shell, come with me up yonder. Ive something to say, he spoke slowly, holding her hand.
Sure, I love the view from there. From the pickup truck, we can see all our what some call
mountain hillbilly ridge runner shacks. She laughed. I dont mind how some people spoke
down to us West Virginians, cause Im proud of my homeland.
You know, I like hunting because it gives me time to think, Dan scratched the top of his head.
I know. The last time I went hunting with you, I saw that. I enjoyed the time to think, too.
So, did I tell you Im looking for more work? He looped one thumb in a front pocket and using
Shellys shoulder as a place to hang the other.
Why, are you leaving the coal company? Shelly walked unhurried as they spoke.
No, Ill be there for a long time, but Im looking for a little extra work at Trumans Saw Mill. You
know, we need the money, Dan swallowed hard and his stomach tensed inward.
What do you mean wethat we always need money? Why now? She lifted her brows and placed
a hand on his hand resting on her shoulder.
I can fish and hunt on Sundays and work on Saturdays, he explained.
Theres time after church, she leaned on his shoulder.
Shell, I never expected I would quit things I love, but Dan professed, already missing his
beloved pastimes. His stomach turned flip flops. I feel I lost part of my soul. Well, theres something
more important now
Something more important?
Its for for something we might want to do, he could barely breathe.
Want to do? Youre beating around the bush with a happy smile on your face. What are you talking
about? Shelly persisted.
Me and you. I want to buy us a home and everything, darling, he looked deep into her eyes.

Home? Shelly blurted and her heart jumped.

Then, Dan got quiet. A look of soft seriousness came over his face. You know, Shell, I told you
Ive been thinking a lot about us. He lightly touched her hands.
Ive thought maybe we should get a place together.
Shelly exhaled a deep breath.
I mean, I wanna spend more time with my special girl, he said in his most romantic voice,
shifting from foot to foot like a little boy who got caught sneaking sweets before dinner.
Shelly chuckled and threw her arms around his neck, spontaneously kissing him before she knew
what she was doing. Id love that, she said. She stroked the back of his neck and glowed like a kid
at Christmas.
Under the full moon, and overlooking the scraggy mountaintops, he bent down on one knee. Shellys
eyes grew big and wide. Oh, my God!
Dan took her hand in his. Shelly, he looked straight into her eyes, I know Im not the most
romantic guy on earth, and I dont exactly know how to string together pretty words He kissed her
hand as he clasped it between his.
She didnt realize she was crying until she felt the teardrops running down her cheeks.
Youre the most beautiful, most compassionate, and most amazing person Ive ever met, Dan
whispered, choking over his own words. Shell Bell, will you marry me?
Yes! Shelly placed an open palm on her heart and jumped twice. Dan rose off his knee and
hugged her. She hugged him back and completely forgot the fact he hadnt given her a ring.
After embracing, he gave her a ring, and both of them kneeled on the ground.
That night, they lay in each others arms the entire night on Dans couch. Shelly had a permanent
grin etched on her face as they slowly drifted off to sleep.
Shell, I want to make love to you. He nuzzled her neck.
Shelly opened her eyes. Oh, God no! she gasped.
Why not? Dan asked. Were engaged!
Gods law.
How about a quick blow you know? He put a cupped hand on the back of her head.

Hell no! she tore his hand away and straightened her neck.
Why? his palm rose.
Its a sin according to God. You know sodomy!
Dan pulled back and then laughed. Of course, sodomy it is. Im just goofing with you.
They both giggled.
Soon, wedding plans were underway. Dans parents drove overnight to congratulate the lucky
couple. His mother, along with Shelly and Martha, immediately sat her down to talk about their
wedding. As much as Shelly wanted an opulent wedding worthy of a fairy-tale princess, Dans
parents didnt have much to contribute, so she settled for having the ceremony at the church and then
having the reception outside in the community hall, near the river.
The local store had few wedding dresses; nothing like the one Shelly liked, so she found a mailorder dress at the perfect pricesad they had so little money, but focused on the rest of her wedding
wishes.
Weeks passed in agonizing slowness. Mama Martha and friends helped as best they could before
the wedding. During that time, word of the impending marriage spread throughout the small town;
people Shelly hadnt seen since kindergarten congratulated her, and she felt taken aback by all the
attention.
A wedding before the whole world sounded alluring to Shelly; she remembered all those bride and
wedding photos in magazines and stories from her youth.
The wedding fell on an unseasonably chilly day in the middle of August. The leaves were crowned
with gold. The pastor who had preached when Dan and Shelly first met officiated.
Their friends and family gathered in the pews.
As Mr. Thomas recited the opening words, Shelly stood side by side with her fianc, wearing the
mail-order brides dress, which hung loosely.
Shell Bell, Dan opened a hand in her direction, I know Ive said Im not one for fancy words,
but for you, my darling, Ill make an exception. He held her hands. I love you, Shell. Before I met
you, I felt incomplete, but your love, compassion, and devotion found a way to make me feel more
fulfilled and more whole than Ive ever felt. He took in large, deep breaths, savoring the feeling in
the hopes of making it last forever.
Shelly choked over her own words. Dan, I dont know what to say either. I know I spent a long
time coming up with the right words to tell you how I feel. All I can say is I love you more than

anything short of the Lord God himself. I want to be by you every step of the way. I want to carry you
through the deepest tribulations, she pledged holding his hand tightly.
When the time came to slip the rings on each others fingers, Shelly nearly dropped Dans ring, but
she recovered with her dignity and slid it on. Dan then slid her ring on her finger. He leaned in and
pecked her on the cheek.
Hold your horses, cowboy, Mr. Thomas said with a laugh. We aint there yet!
The crowd laughed again as they both turned toward the front of the church, each holding each
others hands. The time has come, Mr. Thomas addressed the gathering. This is a glorious moment
for these two; I pray in the times of greatest darkness, the two of you yunguns look back on this day
and remember to smile. You have a love that can only be found once in a lifetime. Dont forsake it for
nutin.
He raised his voice, By the power vested in me by our Lord and Savior and the State of Virginia, I
hereby pronounce you man and wife! You may kiss the bride!
Dans face drew closer and closer as euphoria spread throughout Shelly when he kissed her. She
closed her eyes, feeling lifted off the ground, disembodied, and part of another glorious universe.
Shelly didnt know how long the kiss lasted, but eventually she heard several in the audience
whistling.
Dan pulled away, and with the music playing again, Shelly found herself walking down the aisle
with her new husband. She barely remembered getting in the truck or the subsequent reception.
Everyone in the community brought food for the reception. There had been fried chicken, barbecue
ribs, and smoked mutton. There had also been moonshine and lemonade. A few of the ole timers
picked up their fiddles and played a few songs, and soon everyone was dancing and laughing.
By the time the reception was over and the newlyweds had driven to the hotel, it was late. Do you
want to get some supper before we check into our hotel? asked Dan.
Im not very hungry after all the food we had at the reception. Shelly patted her belly. The town
folks outdid themselves.
I agree, said Dan. Im not hungry either. What ya say we just head on to our hotel?
O.K., said, smiling nervously. This was going to be her big night. She had been warned that the
honeymoon night might be a little painful. She was a virgin and didnt know exactly what to expect,
although her Ma and some of the towns married ladies had tried to explain what would take place.
She was scared a little. But she loved Dan and looked forward to being his wife.
Shelly tried to take her mind off the impending pain of having sex for the first time, and focused on
the lovely Charleston, West Virginia Marriot Town Center Hotel. Not the best Marriott by any stretch,
but it had recently been renovated in rustic West Virginia style charm. Dan had promised that, the

following day, they would go see a movie and go out to dinner in a fancy restaurant in Charleston.
Once they checked in on their wedding night, Dan carried his wife over the threshold to their room
on the third floor. He didnt waste any time undressing and crawling into bed with his bride.
He kissed her and held her in his arms. She shyly inched her body closer to his. When he kissed
her, she responded and opened her legs to him. He tried to be gentle; he knew this was her first time
and he wanted to be easy, but soon his passion overtook him and he plunged into her deeper and
deeper. Am I hurting you? he asked.
No . no she said. It feels good. She hugged him closer. She was surprised that it didnt
hurt, and instead felt wonderful. She let herself rock with his body, and for once just gave in to all the
passion she had squelched all these years.
My wedding was the most beautiful day in my life, she leaned her head against his. Everything
was perfect.
Yes, it was great. All your dreams have come true, Dan stroked her hair. Im proud I made your
dreams come true, he pushed his chest out.
You know I dreamed of Paris, but this is just fine, Shelly said with a satisfied smile as she
looked around.
Well, Shell, this is what we can afford right now, Dan shrugged. But dont worry, things will get
better, I promise.
They spent the next day browsing through the town of Charleston, seeing a movie, and going out to
dinner. It wasnt Paris, but Shelly knew that Dan did the best he could.
When they returned to Beckley, Dan surprised Shelly by driving to a small housing community in
the Mason District of Beckley, on 200 Northwestern Avenue. He pulled into the driveway of an older
four-bedroom house with mud-brown siding and a wooden front porch. Most people would think it
was a country shack, but for Beckley, it was modern, and it sat along the mountain ridge, nestled in the
tall tree foothills surrounding a cluster of similar homes. It had been lived in, and reminded Shelly of
an old-time coal miners homestead.
I havent completed the paperwork. Dan turned off the truck. But if you like it, we can finish the
paperwork and start moving in within the month. Assuming the paperwork clears of course.
She got out of the pickup and toured their new home. In Shellys mind, she was already dreaming of
a peaceful family life within the walls. She looked for the perfect room to raise children in.
I already know what wall well place the cross of Jesus on to protect us. I love it! Shelly threw
herself into her husbands arms.

Well, Im glad you like it, Shell Bell, He exhaled and relaxed. Sure youre not disappointed?
Not at all, she nuzzled in his manliness.
As promised, within three weeks they moved in.
Im so looking forward to raising our children here, she pushed her hand flat onto the table as
they ate freshly killed squirrel to commemorate the first dinner in their new home.
This is a good room for the first baby, but well need furniture, clothes and a crib, Shelly pointed
to barren areas of the rooms.
Of course, he said. In time, well have a baby. Ill have to pick up some extra work, of course,
to pay the bills. He wasnt sure how soon she wanted to have their first child, but he felt it might be
good to wait a year or two, at least.
Well need a fence to protect the kids so they dont wander off, said Shelly.
Dont worry, Shell, Dan said, Everythings gonna be great! Inside though, Dan worried about
Shellys expectations. She didnt seem to understand the cost of thingsespecially raising a family,
and he had no idea the fence might act like a prison.
For seven months, every morning and on Saturdays, when Dan left for work, Shelly cooked his
meals and washed his clothes, acting out the perfect wife role with zest. And it wasnt long before she
was pregnant with their first child.
Soon, Shelly asked if Dan could buy another car for her. Itll be easier for you to get to work, and
with my own car, I can run errands and drive the baby to its doctors appointments.
Dan agreed. Ill find a used family car thatll be a great fit for us. I know a mechanic who can
check it out. He paced the floor, trying to figure out how to make ends meet. I can work extra hours
and stop going hunting on Sundays, too. With the baby and all, we need more money.
Youll be able to hunt again soon. Thisll be temporary, she patted his leg.
Ill be O.K., he assured her with a smile. But he didnt feel O.K. He felt smothered. Hunting was
his one activity that gave him a lot of pleasure. I just never really thought about the cost of raising a
family. Dan took a long swig of his coffee. I can stop hunting for now.
Family comes first, Shelly confirmed, hugging him from behind. I couldnt ask for a better man.
His feelings were bolstered knowing she thought he was the best man she could ever find. Dans
shoulders relaxed as he craned his neck around to peck her on the lips. I know. I cant believe how
happy I am with you. Ill do it for the family.

We need to increase our family income like everyones family does, Dan. Shelly put two hands
on his face. Its what respectable people do.
I understand, he said, though his heart sank with worries of trying to make more money.
After their conversation, Dan worked harder than ever. He became a robot. He woke up early every
day and didnt return home till after dark. Because of his hard work, he soon gained rewards at the
coal company in the form of a raise. If only I could cut family expenses, he thought.
Within a year, they were blessed with a beautiful baby boy, whom Shelly named Billy. Dan had
little to say on the childs name, and it wasnt long before Shelly was pregnant again.
I think well need to make more money.
Jesus, Im getting beat down but yes, we need more money, Dan touched beads of sweat on his
forehead and pulled his glasses down and looking over the rim.
What did you expect? Shelly responded. Her body tensed and her eyes tightened.
Hell, Shell, not this! he raised his voice.
You have a family now, and you have to be the man, she said.
I think Im manly enough, thank you. All I ever do is work. He leaned his head back in an effort to
temper his frustration.
What else do you want? Shelly berated Dan with a wagging finger.
Im just feeling closed in, you know?
Dont you ever consider my feelings?
Well, you stay at home all day, and I have to go out and work hours and hours just to make ends
meet.
What are you saying? Shelly said. I work plenty hard here at home with your baby and taking
care of you and the house.
Its not the same, said Dan.
Look, you knew what you were getting into when you married me, said Shelly. You asked me to
marry you, remember?
Yes, yes, he said. Dont worry, Ill be able to pick up some overtime, and we should be fine
with money.

Dan then went over to the baby, patted his head, and said, Hows Billy, my special guy, doing?
Shelly giggled. He looks a lot like you. I cant wait for little Alice to be born and join our family.
Dont you like that name, Alice?
Yeah, its alright.
Dan rubbed the stubble on his cheek. He felt as though he was becoming someone who worked and
paid the bills. He didnt feel very visible in Shellys life at all and rarely saw the kids. His own
personal world had crumbled and disappeared. He body began to hunch over and his face carved
dark grooves around his eyes.
Dan decided to channel his anger into work and convince himself to feel good about being the
provider. He picked up an extra shift at the mine and worked extra days at the Saw Mill to make ends
meet. Shelly used her pregnancy time to take care of their son and prepare herself for her new
daughter.
Soon, Alice was born. And Dan continued to work as many overtime hours as he could.
As the children grew, Shelly took pride in helping them and teaching them. Both children showed
talent in art, and Shelly would tape their art pictures on the refrigerator and walls.
Since the children required so much care over the years, Shelly and Dans sex life tapered off. As
both lay in their bed one night, too late for either to feel in the mood, Shelly hugged him.
Ive been missing you, Dan, she said gently rubbing his arm.
I know, hon. He pulled her closer to him. Its been hard. The Saw Mill work is backbreaking,
and I dont see you or the kids much. He raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head. I wish youd have
sex with me more often.
More sex? She lifted her head.
Or just some sex? Dan bluntly replied. Work is a grind a little sex might help.
Im busy raising your children, Shelly said. Im too tired at night to have sex! Is that all you ever
think about!
Are you arguing with me about sex? Dan asked hanging his arms at his sides while his back
bone bowed with weight.
You know we never argue, Shelly spoke, still refusing to face him. We always work our
differences out. You know I still love you.

I know, he answered, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the back of her neck. Im sorry,
baby. I guess Im a little stressed. Its driving me crazy. We dont see much of each other and we
havent had sex for a long time. Thats all.
I think we should put money aside for the kids college, Shelly changed the subject. Before long,
theyll be grown up. If we start now, by saving a little every year, well be better prepared.
Dan sighed. Money money and more money; thats all we talk aboutand live for. I wish
someone wouldve warned me about all of this.
Look, I cant help it if things get more expensive every year, said Shelly. Its part of life. And
raising kids is expensive.
Alright, Ill put in extra hours or get another part-time job, Dan offered leaned forward as a light
was being turned out that used to burn inside his chest.
Dans hard work earned him many financial rewards, but this meant he was at home less and less.
The added Saw Mill work took a toll on his body, burdening his back and muscles.
The years passed and the two continued on. Their differences about money were regular topics.
That seemed to be all that Shelly cared about. Before they knew it, the children had grown up and
started elementary school, followed by Beckley-Stratton Middle School, and, finally, high school.
Shellys life revolved around her children and their school activities. As a result, she paid little
attention to Dan, who spent more of his time at work, and very little time at home.
One day at work, Dans physical energy shut down. He couldnt focus his mind on any task long
enough to develop it or move it to completion. Things inside went blankthere was no spark. All the
pushing and running, trying to make more money, suddenly stagnated at a standstill, like spoiled meat
in his stomach.
Having slogged uphill for so long, Dan now hungered to stop, desperate for a break. He was
exhausted from all the pushing; motivation and inspiration died. Any fire inside was cold; he hit
bottom and left work early.
Driving along in his pickup truck, he suddenly saw her. She looked young. She wasnt exactly
beautiful, but was exotic and sexy. She stood rather tall with thick black hair and dark eyes, and with
large breasts, she had a smoking hot body. She reminded him of Cher, the famous singer who became
popular with the Sonny & Cher TV show. The Cher look-alike wore over-the-knee leather boots and
cut-off jean short shorts. She had long, tanned thighs. He licked his lips. His heart started racing.
Good God, she was attractive!
Dan slowed his truck to a stop. She looked over at him and he nodded. She smiled, nodded and
walked over to the truck.

Get in, he said.

Smiling, she got in the passengers seat and said, Fifty. Dan pulled five $10 bills out of his
wallet. She folded the cash and pushed it down into her bra then bent over his lap and spat her
chewing gum into her hand where it stayed. He heard his zipper unzip and felt her lips wrap around
him. He looked down at the back of her head as it moved up and down. Good God! It felt so good he
thought he was going to die!
After only a minute or two of her sucking him, Dan exploded in her mouth. She sat up, opened her
door, and spit. She then put her chewing gum back in her mouth. Before leaving the car, she caressed
his cheek and said gently, Youre very sweet. Im Gina, by the way, and Im here every night, so
dont be a stranger. Ciao.
He heard himself say, Thank you, and then the door slammed.
Dan sat for a few seconds with his pants unzipped, feeling a sense of emptiness as he tried to
evaluate what had just happened.
It was a great blow job! he said to himself. For fifty bucks, its much more than I ever got from
my wife, and hell, it cost me a lot less money.
He zipped up his pants and headed for home. It was later than usual when he arrived. Instead of
hugging Shelly as he usually did, he placed his coat down on the couch. He hung his head as he
approached Shelly. Hon, Ive a confession. He looked like a guilty man.
You look terrible what are you talking about? Shelly asked, lightly touching his arm. Baby,
you dont have to worry about making a mistake at work. We all make them.
This is not good news, dark rings appeared under his eyes. And it was a mistake a stupid,
immoral mistake, and against everything I believe in as a person.
Did you lose your job?
No, I didnt lose my job. I want to tell you the truth right away. He looked at the floor. But I did
something really stupid.
What? Shelly asked again.
He snuck a peek and saw she was calm, staring straight ahead with her lips slightly pursed. He
knew he needed to bite the bullet and come out with it.
She charged me fifty bucks and gave me a blow job. Thats it, nothing more. The whole thing took
two minutes, he frowned at the floor.
Shelly asked, without looking at Dan, In our truck?

What? his heart made a loud thud.

She repeated, The whore you picked up you picked her up in our truck?
Unprepared for this question, Dan began to realize the implications of this fact. Errr, yes, yes, in
our truck Im sorry Shell, Im so sorry! he said almost in tears.
She gasped. Tell me youre joking! Her mouth dropped open and her hands trembled.
Im sorry, his voice cracked.
Sweet Jesus, how could you do this? Do we need to pray?
We dont need to pray. It was oral sex, nothing else, Dan said, and sighed heavily.
It was nothing? How could you do this to me? You broke your vows and committed adultery. What
the hell did you think you were doing?
Dan watched as her pretty faced turned into a sagging distortion of what Shelly normally looked
like. She clenched her fist and punched the air near his temple.
Oh hon, I know its wrong, but I didnt think youd react like this. It was just a mistake. It wont
happen again.
Youre disgusting! I hate you!
Im really sorry. I dont know why I did it. Dan looked away with dark puffy eyes. He wished he
could forget the whole event but couldnt stop seeing the prostitutes head in his lap with her redlipped mouth. The image became a nightmare.
Is all of this because you know because I dont give you oral sex? Her face flushed red, and
a look of stretched skin came over her and her mouth puckered as if she had a sour taste in her mouth.
No.
I dont do that because its for queers. She crossed her arms against her chest and pulled her face
in a pout of disgust.
How can you say that? Is that what youre getting at? Dan shook his head. He had known from the
beginning of their marriage that she wouldnt perform oral sex because it said not to in the Bible.
You need oral sex? You queer? Is that it? Shelly asked. Her face was red as a beet and her
nostrils flared. She was fuming.

No, its nothing to do with that, hon, Dan said, a little frightened at her deranged expression. I
dont mind it if we dont do oral. He moved closer and touched her hand, wanting to console her.
She jerked away. Youll go to hell first!
Please dont, he begged.
Youre going to pay for this, she shouted and threw a glass onto the floor.
Come on, Shell, its nothing, Dan repeated.
Shelly looked up, raised her hands toward the sky, and called out in a wobbly voice, We need God
in our lives. God, please come down and help us!
No, Shel, Dan wondered why he had confessed his indiscretion to her. Maybe he should never
have told her.
What were you thinking?
I made a mistake.
A mistake? Getting a speeding tickets a mistake. Allowing a a whore to touch you down
there well, thats not a mistake, its mockery! How could you do this to me? Shelly screamed.
I wanted to tell you the truth and come clean.
I trusted you! She backed away with a shudder.
Thats why I told you.
I cant trust you again. Tears streamed down her face.
Sure you can! It was a mistake.
I thought you really loved me forever, till the end of time! Shelly spoke as she paced back and
forth.
It was a silly urge, a temptation. I do love you.
Our vows are broken. Youve sinned, and worse, you dont love me anymore! You broke my trust
and one of the Ten Commandments! Shelly screamed.
Please, youre shoutingand dont say that. I love you, Shell Bell, Dan begged, pulling her hand
into his arms.
Dont call me that, you snake. If you really loved me, youd never have cheated on me! Her voice

stung the air as her eyebrows pinched together.

Im truly sorry. Please, look at everything Ive sacrificed for you and the children, he said as if
whispering.
Ive given my entire life to you. I gave you everything! I even gave you children! She blasted
back.
You wanted children!
Youre disgusting; youre an abomination in the eyes of God, Shelly yelled and beat her hands on
the walls.
Please dont say things like that. Her screaming raked on his nerves.
After sixteen years of marriage, youve destroyed my world! Dont touch me!
Please stop yelling, Dan pleaded.
I can smell her on you!
The two sat in silence for the longest time on the sofa. Finally Shelly spoke, Where did it
happen?
Why does it matter?
I need to know.
Dan looked down at the floor. Downtown near Browns Country Cove. You know the area of
town. At his point, he wished he were invisible.
Thats so un-Godly! Ill never understand it. I cant stand looking at you, Shelly creased her brow
and pressed her face forward. Every week you hear something on the news about drug use, murder,
rape, and prostitution in that part of town, and there you were, right in the middle of all of it getting
your blow job.
Dan knelt in front of her. Do you think you can ever forgive me?
No, never. She kicked at him, accidentally kicking him in the face. He grabbed his nose. Blood
was everywhere.
Dont get violent, Dan said as gently as he could.
You deserve it. She slapped him hard on the face then stormed out of the room.

The fight was over for the night. Dan slept on the couch. He mulled over the day and wondered how
Shelly could become so angry. He thought it might be her strict religious upbringing. He realized, of
course, that he was dumb to ever tell her about the event.
The next day, he needed extra coffee to get through the day.
After that night, Dan couldnt come home without being barraged with questions. Shelly spent the
whole day imagining more deeds of infidelity.
Youre going to spend the rest of your life paying for this!
Please dont attack me like this, he begged.
There was little to eat each night when he came home from work, and Dan quietly slept on the
couch again and again.
One evening, Shelly resumed her harsh attack, You cheated! A harlot sucked your dick. Who does
that? She shattered a glass on the floor. She just couldnt get over it.
Ive said I was sorry over and over, Shell, Dan realized there was no defense for him, Shelly
acted like battering ram set on automatic.
The next evening, another demanding day of hard work ended, and Dan found himself tiptoeing
across the wooden porch. He opened the door, hoping Shelly would be busy and not notice him.
I pray God will strike you down for your lust-filled sins, she shouted. Everything in his life at
home became a combat zone.
I know, I know, Dan responded. He hardly listened. He wondered how many other husbands had
to put up with this. His ears hurt and his heart ached.
You know what? You need to repent for your terrible sins! Shelly preached.
Yes, Shelly, I will repent, he promised.
Even that might not make you well. God is pure, she said.
God, it felt like he was being preached to in church!
The next evening, she continued to pick at him. No husband of mine will lay down with infected
whores.
She hammered Dan with guilt, and he started to feel bad about himself, obsessing over his flaws,
and hung his head when Shelly yelled at him.

Millions of husbands do it every day, Dan blurted out one day.

To hell and damnation with you! She grabbed a photo frame on the counter and threw it at Dan.
Okay, can we stop talking about this? he asked her sharply. Dan wanted the yelling and bitching
to stop.
The next day he stayed an hour late at work, not wanting to go home. He loved Shelly, but feared
going home. Dan finally left work and made his way home.
As soon as he walked in the house, the inquisition began as always. Whereve you been? Youre
an hour late again. Who are you seeing now? grilled Shelly.
No one! Dan tossed his coat down on the table. Like all the other times I havent. Christ,
woman, leave me alone. Every single day for months, youve asked me if Im cheating. I told you
when I cheated. I thought youd appreciate that. God, I wish youd stop nagging me about this!
Tired of the overbearing bouts, Dans soul sank like a boat anchor. He lost weight and felt listless.
For the first time, the thought of leaving Shelly actually entered his mind, but it quickly dissolved.
That was not the traditional way.
I dont know whether I should believe you or not! Shelly shot back. How do I know you havent
been with strippers or more prostitutes?
No, hon, Dan replied in a steady voice. Whered you get that idea?
He spoke in an easy manner and searched for a way to end the weighted burden had become his
life.
Youre a sodomite! she screamed
Dan dropped his head back and groaned, rubbing his face. Dont bring the Bible into this.
Remember, Christians forgive and do not throw the sins of others back in their faces.
Shellys daily blasts only fueled Dans determination to find a way out. When she started in on him,
he would simply refuse to respond. He would look at her and let the tirade go in one ear and out the
other.
The children were tired of all the arguing, and soon they were off attending the University of
Charleston, West Virginia, and living in a popular housing building one block from the Kanawha
River. During that time, the home became an even worse type of hell.
Satan has taken over your soul, Shelly shouted. He felt like she was the one who was possessed.
Youre too damn deep into ancient Christian stories! Dan said. Youve lost your mind.

God, please slay this man dead right now, she shouted, clenching her jaw and grabbing the Bible.
She held it firmly over her chest.
Fuck you and fuck your non-forgiving, hypocritical bullshit. Ive had enough! Dan boomed. I got
one blow job, one lousy fucking blow job cause youre too goddamned righteous to be a real wife
a real woman! Thats not cheating, thats surviving as a man!
Its cheating alright! Dont tell me youve cheated with loose sluts again?! Shelly screamed. I
swear, Dan, if I find out youve looked at another whore, Ill kill you!
If Jesus were here today hed check out some internet porn.
Dont say such evil things.
Okay, hold on a minute . . . Shelly just hold on. Ive got something to say to you, he said as
calmly as he could. He put both hands on his hips. Ive had enough of your madness. Ive decided I
dont want to live in this war zone anymore.
Shelly paused for a moment. Whats that mean?
Our marriage has stopped my will to live any longer, he placed a hand on his heart.
Because you sinned!
No its us. Its because of how we fight. Im no longer alive.
Live enough to fuck bitches.
Ive been a slave in this outmoded idea of a marriage, and its killed me, his words spilled
easily.
So you can eat that whores pussy?
Shelly, Im leaving this prison of a home and moving to Charleston, Dan declared with finality.
His heart fluttered with the lightness of a feather. He had found his exit.
No! What the hell!
Its time for each of us to move on. Im going to divorce you. His heart beat in perfect rhythm as
if confirming his life-affirming decision.
Why are you doing this? Do you need your cock sucked that bad? Is it some slut youve been
eyeing? Shelly continued.

No. You never got over that incident. It has been two years since it happened.
But you need she stammered.
Shelly, all your dreams have come true. We made every wish of yours happenthe home, cars,
kids all for you. I worked hard to make you happy, he stood tall.
But, thats what husbands do!
Wives need to help their husbands dreams come true, too. Im not a robot. I am a human, Shelly. I
have thoughts and feelings like you, but you never took the time to notice. It was always about you.
What are you talking about? Your dreams revolve around one person, you!
Even now, you dont see that I have dreams, he said.
Dreams of filthy wet pussy?
Im being serious now, Shelly, Dan said as he teetered back and forth. Ive been quiet for a long
timetoo long. Ive been doing nothing but trying to please you and save this marriage.
So what? The family and I come first! Shelly insisted.
Ive a responsibility to the children, but not to you any longer.
Dont get fancy on me!
Dan turned to leave the room to go to their bedroom and pack. He spoke over his shoulder as he
left, Ive thought through this long and hard. Im going through with this. We are done.
What about the kids?
Dan slammed his suitcase down on the bed and shouted, Dont use the kids. He zipped up his
suitcase and slung it over his shoulder. The children are grown. Youve become ugly and
unbearable. When you scream at me, it makes my eyes and ears bleed. He felt no tension, and almost
cried from the sense of relief.
You ass! Divorce will ruin my life! Her voice screeched as she swiped hair out of her face.
Your life will be fine, Dan said while exhaling a huge breath. His many days of agony were
already dissipating. New energy from a new engine burned inside and he felt good and strong.
You cant leave me. Ill be a divorced widower Shelly clamored.
You shouldve thought about that shit two years ago when you started hounding me mercilessly.

But what will we tell the children? she pleaded.

Lets start by telling them the truth. They wont be surprised. Theyve heard you scream and yell at
me constantly these past two years.
Dan felt a lightness he had never known. Warmth radiated through his body. He hadnt realized he
had been sitting on these thoughts for so long.
Are you sure about all this? Shelly asked, speaking with growing realization of her situation. She
glanced around the room as her own self-made trap enclosed in on her.
Dan looked at Shelly and smiled as he came out of the bedroom, I think your dream of marriage is
a bit too one-sided. Dont let our children believe in Disney fairy tales. Tell them the truth.
I dont want to be alone. Shelly sobbed as he walked out the door.
Now, who sounds selfish? It was just one blow job. Dan closed the door, and in doing so, closed
that chapter of his life.
Shelly stood in her dream home in shock, alone with her thoughts and her dreams.
Overnight peace and happiness engulfed Dans life without the God-awful barrages and jealous fits
from Shelly. Now Dan lives in Charleston, West Virginia, where he sees his children often and
embarks on hunting and fishing jaunts whenever he pleases and doesnt worry about checking in with
a neurotic wife. He sleeps well, and is finally able to fully enjoy his lifelong outdoors hobbies of
hunting, fishing, and camping. He dates and hires a prostitute when the mood hits and as his bank
account grows.
Today, Dan wonders why and how he stumbled into the marital trap of wife, home, cars, kids, and
all those things are no more and no less than bondage. Did he simply fulfill social expectations? Was
he going through traditional motions without connecting with his brain? Thoroughly recognizing
the love he has for his children, Dan is thankful and joyful his past slavery is over and a new
purposeful adventure is in front of him. Next year, he will drive to Canada for a hunting trip, fulfilling
an early childhood dream. Life has never been better or more joyful.
He saw that marriage for young men includes many deceptions that extinguish a mans natural
energies, and Dan is convinced the concept of marriage needs revamping. He is committed to
empowering other men to avoid the pitfalls of a lifelong marriage. Sure, maybe some people have
successful marriages. He recognizes that. But, too many are nightmares.
Dan lives life the way he sees fit, and interacts with internet friends while actively mentoring
people on forums. He produced two YouTube videos about his experience in breaking away from
societal traps and forging his own way. With hundreds of messages each week, he accepts requests to
exchange and present at support groups, using a Matrix Leadership Model, focusing on face-to-face,
person-to-person exchanges.

Today, Dan is internet popular and is filled with pleasures and joy he never imagined. He hunts
when he pleases and meets other women. After unshackling himself from the expectations of society,
he lives life confidently, and continues to conquer mountains with steadfast certainty. His domain
remains his own, and he experiences boundless freedoms.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Men: Never forfeit hopes and dreams for a woman or marriage.xxiv
Men: Without passionate dreamsyoure a man without a soul. xxv xxvi
Mens natural adventurism is killed by domestic marriage. xxvii
Men: If you cheat once, she will make your life miserable forever.xxviii
Womens jealous nagging is responsible for breakups and divorces.xxix
Women nag their loved one 1, 298 continuous hours each year.xxx xxxi
Womens nagging and complaining is futile, men just ignore it.xxxii
Women remember indiscretions and use them against men.xxxiii xxxiv
Women wish for a Disney and fairy-tale marriage is a myth.xxxv
Men are easily manipulated by women and society into marriage.xxxvi
Wives expect household income to increase one year after marriage. xxxvii
The cost of raising a family in the US is higher than ever.xxxviii
Men are expected to take care of women.xxxix
The dream of marriage works against mens nature.xl xli
Men: Once a child is born, life is hard and will sustain poverty. xlii
Men: Traditional marriage enslaves you to wife and family.xliii
A married man will seek outside sexual stimulation.xliv
Marriage is an outmoded tradition that needs reexamination.xlv
Men can seek alternatives to traditional marriage.xlvi

Chapter 3
Painful Love
As he held a bouquet of flowers, long-legged Jeff Anderson, with his hair cut into a crew cut;
closed his car door, started the engine, and raced home. Tired from the days activities as CPA
Supervisor of the Colorado Springs Regional Tax Center, he drove along the interstate, exceeding the
speed limit by at least ten miles an hour. Oblivious to how fast he was driving, he thought the evening
might turn into a leather-bondage sex scene. He knew he was late though, and Carol didnt like it
when he was late.
At the moment, it didnt matter if every police officer on the freeway was on patrol. Jeff barreled
along Interstate 25 whistling a tune with only one thing on his mind: SEX. Thats right. With all
capitals! He had a feeling unlike any other, and one he held close for the longest time. Sex waited for
him at home. Carols affectionate, erotic touches were waiting. It was all part of their two month long,
trial live-in situation before taking the relationship to the next level, which was marriage. He hoped
she wasnt pissed off though for him being late.
Jeffs coworkers liked his easygoing personality, and Jeff made his time available for them, eagerly
helping whenever he could, with the women in the office often talking about how tall and attractive he
was. He never experienced problems finding a girlfriend, and if he had been gay, they would have
been lining up for him, too. He was popular!
He was one of those guys everybody loved, but not perfect; his charm went on for miles, and
behind closed doors his sexual urges controlled most of his life decisions.
Careening down the interstate, Jeff thought about Carol, the girl he had met online, and their last
outing at his favorite spot, the Colorado Rod & Gun Club, a popular place for target practice, a cool
placehis father had introduced to him the clubs skeet shooting at the age of twelve. Since then, he
visited the gun club once a week, and occasionally entered competitions, where winning contests
often garnered him awards. He remembered the first time he ever shot the flying clay ducks. It had
been wonderful, and the smile his father gave him had thrilled him beyond explanation.
Jeff adored the sport, and shared this excitement with Carol, who also found it cool. He noted her
enthusiastic use of the rifle while he taught her. This was a good thing, as Carol wasnt always so
easy to please. Standing behind her, legs wide and arms around her, he took in a full breath of her
hair. It smelled like roses and lilacs. He immediately felt a stirring between his legs. He guided her
hands over the guns mechanics and directed the barrel towards the target, becoming fully aroused; he
knew Carol could feel his hardness pressed against her.
Jeff longed only to hold her, possess her. For a moment, he wanted to move her into a castle and

build its walls and rooms exactly the way she wished. He yearned for a home where the two might
live and love. Then, he remembered just a week ago when they were at the Chapel Hills Mall. He had
briefly checked out another womans ass and Carol had seen him and slapped him in publicin front
of everyone. Stunned and embarrassed, he didnt think he had done wrong; didnt every guy notice
and appreciate a womans ass when it was round and perfect? Carol later apologized and explained
that she was simply reacting from memories of her father abandoning her and her mother when she
was a child. The memories were still raw, and resurfaced whenever she saw him looking at another
woman; she had lapses of hurtful insecurity.
As he walked through the apartment door, Carol made a beeline toward him, wearing a short dress
with a tank top hugging her torso like second skin and displaying an ample amount of cleavage. Her
blonde hair cascaded behind her and swayed with each step she made. He loved her hair, one of her
best assets. Her flaxen hair and suntanned skin gave her an all-American glow. Like many times
before, Jeffs breath caught in his throat, unable to believe this beautiful girl became his girlfriend.
Hi honey, how did work go today? Do anything interesting? chimed Carol, smiling sweetly.
Jeffs heart melted at the sound of her voice. Id say I had a good day. Kind of uneventful, but Im
glad to be home with you, his expression beamed as his heart beat quicker. He watched her move,
the way her body swayed with her steps, and how the dress slipped and slid across all her more
interesting body parts. What he wouldnt give to be able to remove the dress right now. That comes
later, he thought.
He had had other girlfriends over the years, and had dated around, but since meeting Carol, he
focused only on her. He promised he would forsake all others for her.
Yeah, its good youre home. Her eyes focused on his crotch. There was hunger on her face,
making his loins feel warm.
I couldnt wait to get home to you. Jeff leaned down and kissed Carols full, moist lips. Unable to
hold back, he caressed her ass, sending a jolt of need through his loins.
Carol laughed and said, Youre such a man. Always thinking about sex, huh? Thats why I
married er a moved in with you, hon.
Yeah, yeah, Im all man He gave her the bouquet of flowers that he had bought for her and
wondered if this would become a weekly romantic ritual.
Flowers! Well, this will earn you a lot of forgiveness and favors in bed tonight! You cant imagine
how worried I was because youre late.
Yeah, my meetings ran late. Sorry, but Im here now! Cmon, lets move to the bed.
Oh yeah?

Sure.
But youre late.
I came home as fast as I could.
Whereve you been? She pointed one finger at his eyes and finger butted his head.
Geesh, Jeff moved back a foot and rubbed his forehead.
She cracked her knuckles and put an open hand on his forehead and pushed hard. Youre twenty
minutes late. Who were you with? She grabbed the bouquet and swatted the flowers against his head.
Only twenty minutes?! Whats up with you? Jeff relaxed his posture, wondering why and how this
had happened.
You! Thats whats up. She flicked his head with her finger. Jeff staggered back, rubbing the area.
I wasnt with anyone. Oh, wait I see. You want it rough tonight? He thought of wild sex
involving the black whip stored in a box under their bed. He thought of wooden spoons, paint stirrers,
which all made excellent paddles. His favorite, the wooden spoons, were very stingy and made a
dull thud.
No, cut that out! She slapped his cheek.
That one hurt. Are you sure? Should I change what Im wearing? He easily overlooked the slap,
eager to make love to her.
Youre acting so stupid! Dont you see? I want you to stay away from other females! She leaned
closer, her breath on his face.
Are you serious? I do stay away from all other women. He felt sex-mesmerized with the
closeness to her.
Im the woman you turn to for everything, she said while growling with a huff.
Of course. You sure are mmm mistress? He thought of their last playtime in bed, anticipating
tonight.
You can never talk to another bitch!
Youre sounding crazy. He felt a pushing sensation in his chest.
I wish she could just be quiet now.

Im not a crazy mother-fucker! She grabbed his crotch and dug her fingers in hard to twist it,
making Jeff whine and protectively bent over.
Dammit Stop It hurts, he groaned wondering what he had done wrong.
You cant be with anyone else! Youre mine alone. She let go.
Okay, okay I get your point. He exhaled and straightened, relieved shed let go.
I worry about you so much. Carol pouted with an exaggerated face. All at once, her anger
dissipated.
He straightened his frame. Remember before we moved in together, we were dating and went to
the movies and theater every week? His stomach fluttered, and he used one open hand to rub his
heart, recalling better times.
Yes, that was wonderful and when I fell in love with you, Carol said in a quiet voice. She placed
a palm on her tummy.
Wed eat and talk all night long. Then, wed go to the lake and have a picnic. He placed a hand
on her back and moved in a gentle circular motion.
Very romantic. Carol relaxed her posture and gazed off into the distance.
Remember one long day at the County Fair? We lost track of time because we were doing
everything, including the cow competition, the pig ranking, and eating all the fried foods. Then, after I
urged you to forget the fear of falling, we rode the roller coaster ride at midnight. You nestled in my
arm, all day long. We never argued or fought. Remember? He remembered how his stomach had
fluttered, and he appreciated the entire world as a gift for both of them.
Ill never forget that. She hooked her hand onto his belt.
What ever happened between then and now? Youve changed.
Well never mind about that. That was then. Weve got more important things to focus on now.
She turned towards him.
I understand, sweetie. Jeffs heart went to mush again and gave in, so in love.
I cant stand the thought of you running off on me, Jeff! she said, in a voice thick and sweet as
syrup.
Dont be jealous. Theres a good movie on TV. How about I cook some popcorn and we check it
out? he said as his voice bubbled. He reached out towards her.

Jealous! She raised her voice and got in his face. I sat here for twenty minutes wondering
where you were. I know its enough time to fuck someone. I know youre cheating!
Jeff opened both arms, ready for a warm hug. Listen Carol, Im not cheating on you, okay? I
promise I raced home as soon as soon as I could.
I dont believe you, Carol said.
Jeff turned away to gather his thoughts.
She followed after him, her lips twisting into a snarl. No, we aint done talking about this. Get
back here, you worthless piece of shit!
Stop, he raised his voice. He bent forward as she pulled his arm so he faced her.
Carol scoffed. What about the other day in the mall? You totally checked out that girls ass.
And you slapped me for it. Jeff cringed at the memory.
And Ill slap you again! She slapped him again.
Whats that for? He recoiled and touched his cheek.
That should teach you! You should have eyes for me alone. Only for me, got that? She pointed at
herself.
What the hell? Women spend almost every day of their lives making their faces and hair look good
for men. Am I not supposed to notice?
No, you cant look at those other bitches.
Okay, well, explain why women try so damn hard dressing sexy to get mens attention?
I guess theyre needy whores! She shook her head.
Alright, Ill be careful from now on. He stood close, aware he wanted to protect and possess her.
Stop looking or Ill beat your face in. She stood with one leg ahead of the other, her body angled
for an attack.
Why beat me? Please, Im a man and dont deserve to be beaten, he spoke with a silly grin,
imagining the two of them making love while his hands sweat with anticipation. He snuck a glance at
her cleavage.
Well, Im your girlfriend!

Ill do what you say and wont look. He wanted to settle in for the night, so he finally took off his
jacket.
Hang it up in the front closet, Carol said, while pointing a commanding finger.
I know. Jeff twisted his wrist and felt his stomach roll.
As Jeff hung his jacket in the closet, Carol interrupted, Youre not doing it right! Now, fix it! She
bossed like an army sergeant.
Am I doing it right now? Jeff lowered his head and rubbed his hand through his hair.
She didnt look before snapping. No, youre pathetic!
He cringed. Please dont. He purposely did everything in his power not to retaliate. He wanted
his sexy Carol tonight, not this jealous, bossy tyrant.
Fold the arms down at the sides! she instructed. Really, do I need to do it myself?
Honey, thats enough now. He did as she said and placed one hand against his neck.
By the way, you should know, I used one of your credit cards today and bought a new dress and
got my hair done.
You used my credit card without asking me? Did you sneak it out of my wallet? He fiddled with
his shirt sleeve button and felt gurgling in his stomach.
I guess this is what you deal with when you date a hot chick like me, baby! Carol moved her
mouth close to his ear.
I didnt give you permission. His hand dropped to his side and his face flattened.
I dont need permission! I can do whatever I want when I want!
Please, keep your hands off my wallet. His eyes then dropped, focused on her cleavage; the
sexual stirrings in his loins kept his mind in a whir.
Carol smiled devilishly, noticing Jeffs wandering eyes. Youd like the dress I bought. It shows off
these Carol touched her breasts, cupping them upwards.
I might find that dress appealing. Jeff felt his dick harden. She always made him horny.
Im your freakin girlfriend! I can tell you anything I want! Carol used one hand, giving him a
shove.

Youre just my girlfriend. Not my freakin wife. Jeff rocked backwards wondering how he could
make Carol happy.
Not yet, anyway! Youll get injured if you dont listen to me.
Please, he said. Dont hurt me. Thatd be crazy.
I dont give a shit what you think, Jeff! She gave him a harder shove and almost crashed into the
dining room table. So now Im crazy, huh?! She slapped his face once again.
Ouch, Carol, I dont like it when you push and slap me around, he said, planting his feet. Are
you trying to scare me?
Im doing this because I love you. I love you more than anything, she said, using her honeyed
voice while she worked her curvy body.
Is that it? He hoped as his eyes gazed.
Youre the one I care for so much. Her beautiful face returned.
Sure, honey. I love you, too. Please stop hitting me then!
I wont do it again. Im sorry for that. She reached out, put her hand on his neck, and then pulled
in close.
I worried I might have to report you to the police. He laughed uneasily.
Now, now, you wouldnt do that to me, would you? Lets sit. She patted her palm on the couch.
Oh God, this is so nice. I enjoy her when shes like this.
Sure, lets relax, I like that, Jeff eased.
Lets enjoy the night. She offered a thumbs-up gesture and smoothed out the front of her blouse.
Ill pop the popcorn, you can start the movie. Well have a good time.
Okay. She paged through the screens TV Guide as Jeff placed the popcorn into the microwave.
Jeff catered popcorn and sodas on the table in front of the couch. Carol sat luridly on the couch as
he walked back to it. The movie started.
She looks so fine, I want to have sex with her.

How about I take us to the Broadmore for dinner tomorrow? He beamed a smile.
Thats a nice place. Id love it!
The two lay side by side on the living room couch. She put her bare feet onto his lap. The lights
dimmed around them, setting the mood. Jeff leaned over, kissed her ankles. He gently rubbed each toe
and massaged her feet. Then his attention turned to the movie.
Carol looked at Jeff and then growled.
Jeff watched the movie closely.
Carols eyes blackened and she slowed one foot far back. She held it a moment and then she kicked
with unbreakable force, slamming Jeff in the side with a wallop. He recoiled, popcorn kernels
scattered into the air.
Owwww! Jeff shouted. He sat forward in pain. God, you hurt me. His body crumpled where
her foot bashed him, as spots flashed in his vision.
I saw you looking at her! She pointed at the TV. A beautiful actress had been on the screen
moments earlier.
Christ, Carol, its the TV.
You cheating son of a bitch. She stood and reached out to swing a wide slap across his face.
You love me. Is this how couples should act?
Yes! She knocked him on the top of the head with her hand.
Carol, I thought the rest of the night would be fine. You promised. Am I making a mistake? He
leaned away so her hands couldnt reach him.
Dont you feel like hitting me? Her lips pressed together.
No, but I think I know why some men fight back. He rocked on his heels and pretended to study
the floor. His mind sifted through the events that had just happened, and he tried to figure out how to
stop it from getting worse.
Carol smirked. Youre too much of a chicken shit to fight me back!
I aint hitting you. Jeff awkwardly laughed in an attempt to make Carol happier.
You could never get tired of me and give up all of this! she said, gesturing towards her body.

Thats true.
Do you find this sexy?
Let me think.
Do you like it?
Well, lets take a break tonight. His words surprised him; normally he would do anything for
sex.
What? You dont find me sexy?
Well er not right now. His voice sounded quiet.
She raised an invisible rifle in the air, aimed, and then pulled the trigger. Pow, she whispered.
His heart stopped. So, I introduce you to shooting clay ducks and you turn the rifle around and
point it at me? What kind of person are you?
You dont know me at all, darling, she said with a sick smile plastered on her face. Ive hit you
right where it hurts, havent I, dearest?
No, I guess I dont know you. I taught you to use the rifle and now you turn on me by fake pulling
the trigger. Jeff now regretted those target practices at the Colorado Rod and Gun Club.
Im reminding you Im wearing the pants around here.
Ive been good to you. He clenched his hands.
And you better never stop being good to me! Carol picked up a drinking glass. She lifted it over
her head, aimed it at Jeff, changed her target, and then threw it onto the floor with a loud smash. Glass
bits scattered.
The sound of glass breaking rattled a hidden memory from a past incident when Jeff was seven
years old. His heart stopped and Carol disappeared for a moment as his mind recalled a raging
argument between his father and mother. He saw a timid child, himself, sitting with crossed legs on
the living room carpet. He lowered his head, afraid of the screams. He put hands over his ears and
trembled. Mom yelled bad words that made him terrified.
His dad had crashed the kitchen table to the floor, breaking the tables legs, glasses, and dishes.
Pieces of glass, silverware, and pottery scattered everywhere. He cowered and shrunk in horror. His
stomach twisted, ran to his bedroom and he remembered that was the first time, he cried himself to
sleep. His dad closed his fist and slugged his mom. Her black eye was easily noticeable the next
morning. Jeff had blanked all those images out of his mind. He had blocked the scene from memory
for many years, until this moment.

Oh God, what am I doing?

He came back from the memory and gazed at Carol. His mind clicked. Have I been putting up with
violence just for sex? He trembled. As a light bulb switched on in his brain, he wondered how long
he had been acting like this just for sex and attention.
Thats the way it should be.
I think I just learned something. Sweat gathered under his arms.
Fuck you and do what I say.
He thrust his out chest. Not anymore. I think I need to change.
God, what a feeling when I make the right decision for once.
Oh please! Dont fool yourself. Men are moronic idiots controlled by pussy! she spat back.
Youve got a twisted idea of what men are, he frowned, and his muscles tensed.
What a big pussy you are! Give me your cell phone, because Im going through your calls! She
held her hand out. Hand your fucking phone over now!
Theres nothing in my phone.
Ill be the judge of that. She grabbed the phone and scrolled though the messages. She gasped and
his heart fell. Whos this bitch, Elly?
He almost laughed. Thats my sister, remember?
Going through your Facebook and phone is sharing, sharing like every good couple should do.
She continued searching through his phone.
Youre an evil person?
I have to change this situation!
Im your lover. She tossed the phone against the floor.
Youre teaching me about why I put up with you.
You need sex, right?
Im not going to be your pussy beggar anymore. He took a deep breath. His body tensed, and his

spirit felt free.

What? Is this some kind of a threat? Carol pushed her lower lip out.
You and I cant be together anymore. I should move out. An enormous weight lifted from his
shoulders. He was free. His chest pounded with joy.
You cant leave me. I love you! You belong to me, she cried and begged sweetly.
Listen a minute. My dad abused my mother, and Im doing the opposite with you. See? He held
his palm out towards her.
What the hell are you saying? She leaned forward with an open mouth and strained her neck.
Please dont make this difficult. This is best for both of us to get some time away. Lets separate.
He formed a steeple with his hands and pressed them to his lips.
But, dont leave me! Her voice cracked as her head moved down with her eyes looking up. One
fist clenched in the air.
Jeff noticed the betrayal Carol must have felt after her father walked out on her life. His feelings
longed to come rescue her from this state of fear, but the fighting between them was too real and
painful.
Carol I know this will cause aching at first, but Im thinking I need to work this out within myself.
He opened both arms and sensed a warm expansion in his chest.
I said no! She screamed.
I gotta fix something.
Whats that mean? she said as her eyes and face glared like a she-wolf.
I think you and I both need to get help. Were not good for each other. I cant do this with you
anymore.
Ill make your life miserable. She leaned forward and spat at him.
Listen Carol, Ive realized love shouldnt hurt, and I should change my life. I really need to
change. Carol, can you help me with this?
Hell, no! Youll pay with your life!
Dont you see we can make everything so much better? he said as he rubbed his forehead.

Carol disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a knife.

What the fuck? His spine straightened as dark thoughts raced.
Carol wielded a long butcher knife with the look of a criminal. Youre not leaving!
Wha whatre you doing? Jeff stuttered. His stomach dropped to the floor.
Carols eyes glazed over, waving the knife back and forth. Did you think Id let you leave me,
especially after you made a fool of me?
Jeff froze. He instinctively jumped towards the closet.
No! Carol yelled and clenched her jaw.
His idea to cover himself with the closet door was a knee-jerk reaction. His pounding heartbeat
thrashed in his ears. The reaction didnt work.
Ha, you look like a scared bitch, she yelled. Her eyes were glassy and her face scowled.
You dont want to do this. Jeff put both hands in the air for protection.
Oh, Ive wanted to do this for a long time. She waved the knife in a slicing motion.
Youre planning on cutting me?
Ill cut your dick off, Carol said with glee, as a creepy smile squirmed across her lips. She
raised the knife in the air, psycho style.
Carol, dont, youll spend your life behind bars! He put one hand in the air like a stop sign. All
he could think of was how to save him.
I dont give a shit where I spend my life, as long as Im not reminded of your betrayal!
Im calling the police.
Im gonna knife you! Carol used the knife, pointing and jabbing. Ill enjoy making you bleed,
she breathed hard.
Leave me alone! Jeff dashed towards the phone.
Youll die for what youve done to me. Carol staggered toward Jeff.
Stop, Carol.

Come here, bitch! Her eyes were wild, her teeth bared ready to eat raw flesh.
Give me that knife! Jeff shouted. For the first time ever, he knew death. The grim reaper gaped
directly in front of him.
Like hell, I will.
Carol stabbed at Jeff, a penetrating jab sliced against the side of his torso. Pain shot through him.
Feeling the blade cutting flesh, he grabbed his side and looked down at blood soaking through his
shirt.
With wide eyes, he clasped both hands around the knife. Owww, youve cut me, his voice
shuddered. He twisted her hand.
Let me cut cha again!
He clenched her wrist and twisted hard. Her growling face grimaced with pain.
Let go, Carol! his voice pleaded like a terrified boy.
Fuck you.
Jeff yanked her wrist towards the floor, sharply dropped his knee onto her hand, sprung the knife
out of her grasp and set it flying across the floor. The knife stopped some ten feet away.
No! You bastard!
Carol struggled to free herself as Jeff held her in a headlock and dragged her to the phone. With one
shaking hand, he called 911.
Damn you, you asshole, let me go! Carol shrieked as she convulsed on the floor with Jeff on top
of her, holding her flailing limbs tight.
South West Police Department, a voice said.
I need help, Jeff said. He couldnt think straight and he saw spots in his eyes.
Carol then knocked the phone out of his hand.
Can I help you? the operator said.
Wha whats wrong with you? Jeff reached into open air with clawing fingers in hopes of
getting the phone back. His heart raced.
Carol tore the receiver from him and raised it to her mouth. My boyfriend is beating me again.

Please come to 1835 Ninth Street. Her voice chimed with sugar again.
What the hell are you doing? Jeffs jaw dropped.
You mother-fucker! Im stopping you! Thats what Im doing! Carol shouted.
Stop this! He tried to yank the phone out of her hands.
Well send a car over right away, the operator said.
Youre going to rot in jail. Carol opened her mouth and laughed uncontrollably.
God, Carol, whats wrong with you? He cringed.
You! Her breathing slowly settled down. Some normalcy came back to her face.
Calm down now! They are on their way. Jeff took deep breaths.
You ass!
Relax! Jeff breathed.
Okay, Im calming down. She used her forearm to wipe her mouth.
If I let you go, will you sit?
After a moment, she spoke, Yes, Ill be okay. Im not going anywhere.
When Jeff eased his hold on Carol, she dropped onto the floor. She sat up heaving, with both legs
stretched out, her hair disheveled.
I fucking hate you, Carol slurred.
Thats okay, Jeff said in a long breath.
In moments, a knock came from the door. Police Department, a mans voice said. Jeff threw the
door open.
Officers rushed in and cuffed Jeff immediately. Beating up your girl again tonight? the officer
asked.
Thank you, officers. Thanks for saving me. Carols voice was girly-sweet.
Officer, that hurts, Jeff felt pain from the police wrenching his cuffed arms behind his back. His
heart jumped into his throat.

Thank you, he hurt me. Carol whispered like a sweet teen.

What was Carol up to? She couldnt possibly be playing victim?
What happened here? one officer asked Carol.
He beat me up again. Carol faked a cry. Look at what he did. She pointed at a bruise on her
arm and wrist. Her face scrunched up.
Boy, shes good! She could win an Academy Award for her acting!
No, Im not beating her up. Carol needs some kind of help counseling or something. Jeffs
heart stammered, hoping the police didnt think he was to blame.
But look at this, officer, see Carol held out her arm and wrist.
The officers looked towards Jeff.
Damn, thats not what happened, Jeff said. Suddenly, he was afraid no one would believe him.
Why dont you tell us what happened then, the officer said.
She attacked me. His mind drew a blank, unable to connect the right words together.
What should I say?
Carol pouted, forcing a tear to roll down her cheek. Hes been hitting me for a long time.
Thats what it looks like, an officer said.
She isnt crying. Shes fake-acting. Jeffs chest ached while he slumped over.
Officer, please help me.
You beat her? The officer looked at Jeff.
Thats not true. No I didnt.
Tell me why we shouldnt take you in, the officer ordered Jeff.
She came at me with a knife. See, there it is. He pointed with a shoulder and squished his brows
together, glancing around the room looking for more evidence.
One officer walked closer, inspecting the knife. Did she cut you with this? he asked.
Yes, see, she stabbed me right here. Jeff grimaced, leaning to one side towards the officers so

they could see the blood.

I see. Ill get an ambulance out here, the officer said.
Its just a scratch, Carol said.
Id say a little more than a scratch; we still need to have it looked at, the officer said, nearing
Carol.
Thank you. Jeff stumbled back a step, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly, feeling his knees
buckle.
One officer removed the cuffs from Jeff.
How did you get in? the officer asked Carol.
We both live here. Hes my boyfriend. Carol smiled sweetly. He threw me down and hurt me.
Its true, we both live here. Jeff caressed his wrists after the officer removed the cuffs. And
when I told her I wanted to break up, she went psycho. He sagged against the wall and bowed his
head.
Oh, honey. Carols voice dripped sugar.
I know you love me, Carol. Jeff crossed both arms tight against his chest.
Damn right! She shouted.
The officers watched.
But, I told you I have to get away from you. You really are psycho. His body rocked as he
pointed at her.
Carol sneered, You aint seen psycho yet.
The second officer approached Carol with a set of cuffs.
Jeff and I want to get married. Carol switched back, now acting all girly sweet.
Tha thats a lie, he shouted angrily. Please stop talking like that Carol.
You asked me to marry you last night. Her voice sounded like a sweet sixteen-year-old.
No uh again, thats not true.
You charged at me with the knife! Carol screamed.

The cops looked back and forth at the two. They must have decided that Jeff was telling the truth.
He was the one with the knife cuts, so they let go of Jeff and grabbed Carol.
You bastard, she rasped when the cuffs click locked on her wrists. No! I swear hes been
stalking me! Carol told the police in desperation, as they dragged her outside. No, you got this all
wrong!
Young lady, youre coming with us.
Oh God Jeff breathed easy. There were no words to describe the relief. He drew in a deep
breath and made the sign of the cross. Tears welled in his eyes.
With very little ruckus, Carol and the first officer were gone.
Ill never date someone like Carol again. Jeff felt every muscle gradually relax and his mind
stopped whirling like a hurricane. The sensation of wanting to be held by someone, to be cherished,
and be given warm shelter overwhelmed him. He needed nurturing for body and mind; he yearned for
this. He exhaled a long, deliberate sigh.
Two paramedics approached, checking, prodding, and helping Jeff towards the ambulance.
Safe at last.
Heres the patient. You can take things from here, the officer said.
Jeff knew he needed to sort some things out in his life.
God, thank you Im not dead.
Ive some serious thinking to do, Jeff told the officer. Then, he left safely inside the ambulance.
He was on the way to the emergency room.
Facing evil and possible death inspired some deep thinking in Jeff. He recognized he had been
acting like an immature teen needing a womans validation. He always sought female attention and
approval, allowing primal urges to control his daily thoughts and endlessly chase women, obsessed
with them. He competed with other men, hoping to falsely win a female prize like a virgin;
inexperienced in romance or sex, he bestowed expensive gifts upon women and allowed lust to
sidetrack logical decision making. He now set aside time for himself. His past slavery to any woman
made him embarrassed.
After months of reflection, Jeff understood how he had organized his life around sex and women
who would give him sex.
Today, he is self-confident and avoids being controlled by others, keeping his eyes on his path in
life. He questions his own passions before acting, and asks a potential date questions before things

get serious.
He dates and enjoys women. Hes not bitter. He is careful and remains single.
Jeff vows to file charges if a woman raises her hand against him and realizes its necessary to
document a womans act of aggression for authorities. He feels no shame in this protection and filed
an Order of Protection against Carol. Hell never give a girl a break just because shes a girl. His has
limited tolerance for any women pushing him too far.
Jeff is excited about living on his own and goes to the Colorado Rod and Gun Club often. He
volunteers at the Gun Club for special events. These activities provide a well-balanced life. He
knows he is doing exactly what he intended to do, living out his fathers dream, relishing in being
around the sport he adores.
Lately Jeff is planning an extended African safari, traveling solo, and allows the worlds
adventures take him where they may.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

50% of domestic violence is committed by women against men.xlvii xlviii
Men: Never move in with a woman quickly; let emotions settle down.xlix
Men: Never tolerate physical violence even if youre getting sex.l
Every 15 seconds, a woman physically abuses a man.li
One man a day is killed (murdered) by his woman in the US. lii
Three women a day are killed (murdered) by their men in the US.liii
One in every 45 men will be stalked in his life by a woman.liv
Six million men are victims of domestic violence each year.lv
Women nag their loved one 7,920 minutes each year. lvi
Most women dominate their men through verbal abuse. lvii lviii lix
There is no reason to put a hand on someone unless its self-defense.
Most women are more violent than men; they push, slap, and throw things.lx lxi
Men are stronger than women and leave wounds and bruises.
Law enforcement mistakenly assumes the man is the aggressor lxii
Women are three times more likely to use a weapon against the manlxiii
Women go to great lengths to control their men.lxiv lxv
Most women use sex as a weapon and manipulate men.lxvi lxvii
When a woman hits you, call the police and get it legally documented.lxviii
Women play the victim in front of police, who believe the play act.lxix lxx
Never let a woman question your manhood; she knows nothing. lxxi
The law enforcement system is biased against men.lxxii lxxiii
Women infer you are gay, humiliating you into their trap of love.
If your woman is controlling, leave her.lxxiv
Men: Beware of how fragile you are when it comes to sex.lxxv
Men will make life decisions because of thoughts of sex. lxxvi
Enslavement to womens sex limits mans greatest assetinnovation. lxxvii

Most women attack men with their relentless verbal abuse.lxxviii

Men must record their women in raging bickering for evidence.lxxix
Many women are spiteful and can carry a grudge to their graves.lxxx
Women initiate domestic abuse by nagging their men.lxxxi
Her nagging aggravates men into hurting, so she is at fault.lxxxii
Women scorned are dangerous and dont want to see you happy.lxxxiii
Violent women are given a pass by much of society and authorities. lxxxiv

Chapter 4
I Am Committed
Gary Perkins raced around the house repeating in his mind, Theyll be here any minute. Theyll
be here any minute! His normal attire consisted of jeans, boots, and large flannel blue plaid longsleeve shirts. Today, he spiffed himself up for the visit, while he compulsively checked the toilet
bowl for skid marks, the bathtub drain for hair, and the bathroom sink for toothpaste residue. He
checked his slightly ruddy skin and sandy blond hair in the mirror. He made sure there were clean
towels, hairless bars of soap, and fresh rolls of toilet paper for the bathroom.
Theyll be here any minute. She wants to visit! I hope I pass inspection.
He vacuumed the living room and made sure the vacuum cleaner left a pattern of straight, parallel
lines on the carpet. He also vacuumed the drapes, the sofas, and the cushions. He remembered the old
bat saying, You can tell a lot about a man by how dusty his house is tsk, tsk, and tsk.
Theyll be here any minute!
The bedroom came next; he did not expect any action in this room, but the old bat might take a peek,
so he made the bed. You could bounce a coin on the fold of the sheet because it was tucked in tight.
He knew the old bat would say, Tsk, tsk, tsk you can tell a lot about a man from the way he makes
his bed.
Any minute now!
You could eat from the floors. If you looked at the door handles, you needed sunglasses. You could
see your reflection in the credenza.
Gary stood still and deeply inhaled the fresh fragrance of pine and lavender with a twist of
industrial strength disinfectant, exuding satisfaction. His girlfriend and her old bat of a mother could
come now, because he was ready.
The doorbell sounded.
Oh my God! Theyre here!
He ran around the carpet so he wouldnt ruin the pattern on the carpet. A deep, frozen smile settled
on his face before he opened the door. Esther Rose, AKA the old bat, and Maria, a big-boned, brownhaired, earthy sort of girl, in black pants and a red blouse, the old bats daughter and Garys
girlfriend, stood before him.

Esther Rose took one glance at him and pointed at his shoes, for he forgot to shine them! She
grumbled, Tsk, tsk, tsk you know, young man, you can tell a lot about a man from the way he shines
his shoes.
Without waiting to be invited in by him, she passed under his nose and orbited twice around the
room before settling her bottom on the edge of the sofa with her knees pressed as tightly together as
her razor thin lips. Esther, always in his face, pensive, like a retired old school teacher whose role in
life was to monitor her only daughters every move.
Meanwhile, Gary took Marias hands in his and then kissed her chastely on the cheek.
Come on in, come on in Im so glad to have you over, he said as he pushed his hand through his
hair. He knew his voice sounded too cheerful to sound true. Its always a treat when you visit.
Maria pulled her hands away with a smile. Thank you, and of course, it is. She took her place
beside her mother on the sofa.
Gary opened his waving arms in a welcoming manner. Make yourselves at home.
Esther Rose made the face of someone sitting on a pointy rock and replied, Were comfortable,
Gaby, thank you.
Erm its Gary, Missis Rose Gary. Garys gut squirmed.
What did I say? Rose peered past the black rimmed glasses she wore.
Gaby.
Did I? I dont think I did you must have misheard.
Gary smiled harder. I probably did. Im sorry.
Christ! How awkward this is!
Dont worry, its not a big deal, we all make mistakes. Dont we, Maria? She put a palm against
her daughters shoulder.
We sure do, Mama, we sure do! Maria nodded vehemently.
Gary felt as if his chest shrunk too small for his lungs. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Inside his head he rehearsed his next sentence. Make yourselves at home; Ill be right back with
some refreshments . . . yes, thats it, refreshments. Make yourselves at home
So you said, Harry, so you said! Ester tapped her glasses with a finger.

He decided avoiding her mistakes over his name would be wise; thus, he laboriously continued,
waiting on them. Ill get some err food and beverages err. He turned around and walked into
the kitchen; halfway there, it hit him, so he turned back and cried, Refreshments! Refreshments!
Make yourselves at home. Ill be back with some refreshments!
Thats nice. Larry, why dont you do that? Esther Rose said.
He paused. Thats not my names never mind. He shuffled into the kitchen.
Jesus, she cant remember my name!
When Gary returned, neither of the women moved nor spoke. He laid the platter he had prepared on
the coffee table. I made some lemonade and a bowl of guacamole. Can I serve you some lemonade?
Esther Rose covered her glass with her hand.
Did you make this lemonade with ripe lemons? Esther pointed.
Yes! he happily reported. Yes, Maam used ripe lemons. That should count for something.
I dont care for lemons; theyre too acidic. She puckered her lips in a painfully bitter grimace.
Gary felt the words pushing their way out so he tightened his lips to block them.
Lemons are acidic? And you are what . . . sweet?
Ill have clear water, if you have any. She pushed her glasses tight with a finger.
Sure.
Room temperature?
Yes.
Tap water?
OK.
. . . and be a dear squeeze a lemon into it, add one spoon of sugar, and toss in an ice cube, if its
not too much trouble. Were simple folk, so a glass of tap water will do. Oh, get one for Maria too.
Maria is too polite to ask, but I know thats what she likes. A mother knows, she knows. Doesnt a
mother know, Maria? Rose looked towards Maria and nodded with a comfortable smile.
So, now she wants lemons? Thought they were too acidic!

She sure does, Mama, she sure does.

Why is Maria so passive when around her mom?
After peering through her spectacles as if they were binoculars, she said Still a mess.
Im sorry? said Gary.
Your apartment, Gary, is a mess! Its in shambles! Esther fiddled with the end of her eyeglasses,
twirling them and plopping them on her nose again, looking downwards at Gary.
In shambles ? He looked around the room, desperately trying to find anything out of order
warranting a damning judgment on the part of his guest. He found nothing worthy of the judgment.
Gary enjoyed bachelorhood; he kept his house clean and tidy at all times. He kept his sink clear of
dishes. There stood no empty beer bottles on the coffee table in the living room, so Mrs. Rose saying
his place looked a mess was disconcerting. His garage, where he indulged in his hobby of restoring
vintage cars, was spotless.
At thirty-two years old, Gary Perkins life was in ordera simple man with simple aspirations.
His dreams included someday refurbishing a 1958 Impala with all its original parts, and then driving
it around his old neighborhood, the Wisconsin Dells, and the timeworn towns in northern Wisconsin,
with the top down and his girlfriend in the passenger seat. For the past year, the girl he imagined and
fantasized sitting near him in the roaring muscle car was Maria Rose.
Maria wasnt the most beautiful girl in the world or a lot of fun to be around, and if anyone asked
Gary why he hung out with her, hed be hard pressed for answers, but he adored the simple
consistencies in life. He hoped Maria would be one of those important consistencies.
Gary was consistent about where he lived, north on Northport Drive, because he had always lived
there; the same held for his job. Since graduating from high school, he had worked as a toll cashier at
the Dade County Airport in Madison, Wisconsin. He never thought of looking for anything else,
content with lifes regularity. He worked the cashier window, dealt with customer assistance, and did
maintenance work. He felt useful in those capacities. He knew his job and did it well, and for those
reasons he remained in his position year after year.
With Maria, it was the same. They met a little over a year ago. He remembered every detail of that
meeting when Cupids Arrow struck him, and Maria, as well. Her cars tire went flat, stranding her.
As Gary drove on his way home from work, although an amateur mechanic, he owned all the tools.
She appeared on Interstate 39, near Burke, helpless and despondently looking at her car without
signaling to anyone to stop and help her. He decided to rescue her, so he stopped and changed her flat
tire. As he drove closer his eyes were entertained with the site of the stranded lady with her arms
crossed. He left his truck, walked close and lightning zapped between their bodies, Marias arms
uncrossed and she stared into his eyes. Need help? he asked.

Well yes, she moved near his face.

Something like lust or love moved each closer to the other until Gary kissed her with an awkward
peck.
She smiled and put one hand on her lips and scrunched her shoulders high while he pushed back.
Im sorry, he whispered and dropped a hand.
No, its really alright, I love it, Maria patted his shoulder.
Such an odd thing.
I know youre an attractive man to help save me.
Gary blushed.
I need some help with the tire youre my Knight in Shining Armor.
Sure, I can change the tire. Im good at that.
Youre so kind.
After a moment, I hope I can see you again? Gary asked.
She politely thanked him and looked at the ground.
Would you like to go out for a drink and get to know one another?
She said, That would be lovely. You can pick me up Sunday at eight?
Sure, we can go for drinks at eight and catch a movie at nine thirty. He gave a slight head shake.
Oh, no, no, no! she exclaimed. Eight in the morning on Sunday?!
Eight in the morning? You want to catch a matinee?
She laughed. No silly, youre taking me to Mass.
Am I? His stomach fluttered.
Yes! You should wear a tie. So we will look good as a couple, a couple that might stay together
for a long time.

Really? Confusion coursed through his veins.

After discussing it a bit further, they settled that their first date would take place at church on
Sunday morning.
Why not? Gary smiled and tried to sound casual about it. Its unusual, but so what? He pecked
her on the lips.
When he showed up at the newly built home in the Fishburg subdivision, off South Park Street, he
wore a tie and carried a bunch of yellow roses.
The door opened, her mother came out. My name is Rose Esther. Youre almost late, you know?
Rose folded her arms across her chest.
Gary cleared his throat apologetically and offered, But Im not hmm, am I? Its eight oclock on
the dot His hand trembled as he handed her the flowers.
Well, youre certainly not early! She massaged the left temple of her head.
Esther took the flowers and laid them on the credenza near the door. No time placing them in
water now theyll hold until we return, Im sure. This is my husband, Harold. Were going along.
Gary mumbled, Im not late and Im not early, then Im on time right on time. Hello, Harold,
good to meet yousure, the more the merrier.
Harolds car sat parked in the front of their home. Maria, Harold, and her mother, Esther, climbed
into Garys car instead. Maria sat in the back with her father, and Esther sat in the passengers seat
beside Gary.
Gary started the car and off they went on his first date with Maria and her Mom and Dad.
Gary never liked church-going. He wasnt religious or an atheist, neither a believer nor a
nonbeliever. He just didnt care, and as far as he was concerned, it was beside the point whether God
existed or not. Men might overestimate their own importance in the eyes of God, was the way he saw
it.
Did God really watch to see who showed up at Mass? It made no sense to Gary.
The Cathedral Parish stood among groves of lush greenery on East Main Street in downtown
Madison. The Parishs founders wanted a family-oriented traditional Catholic church. Maria looked
lovely in her flowery dress. She sang the hymns with a fervent naivet he found charming. He didnt
realize on that first date that the Sunday church ordeal would become a regular weekly affair.
After Mass, he took Maria and her mom and dad home. They invited him in for a cup of coffee. He
was shocked. When Gary walked into their modern living room, he noted the place smelled of cat

piss, and the sofa, every window sill, every chair, and every available flat surface was covered in cat
hair. Cats played with each other; there were at least a dozen fat, lazy felines who all looked at him
with superior indifference. It was filthy.
I think, right now, I hate cats.
Maria explained she worked at an animal shelter where she mostly dealt with cats, and she often
took home the animals that were in need of home care. He grandmother loved tomcats and she was
like her grandmother.
Thats fantastic! I love animals, dogs and especially cats. Theyre so graceful and independent.
What do you do at the shelter? he asked.
She fixes them, her mother offered the answer.
You mean when theyre wounded, right? asked Gary.
No, I mean if they have balls. She cuts them off. Snip, snip. Esther smiled and winked while
tapping fingers on the table. She made a gesture of snipping as if she were wielding big scissors.
Gary shivered at the thought and instinctively crossed his legs and shielded his genitals with his
hands.
Does Esther hate all men or just me? God help me.
Maria expanded on the subject. We must do it. You know its for the cats own good. Once
castrated, they live longer and are happier. Its important. All males should be castrated. Sure, they
gain a little weight, but look at how much happier they are.
Gary grimaced inside.
You know, snip, snip, Esther again gestured a pair of scissors cutting.
We need to do this to control the stray pet population. We also do it for if we dont, they will fight,
run away, climb trees, or kill little birds. However, once I take care of them, all of thats over. They
eat, sleep, and enjoy their lives.
Ouch. Gary leaned over his own balls, temples moist with cold sweat. Yes, I see safer,
happier they eat and sleep and you take care of them.
Trying to lighten the mood, Gary said jokingly, What do you do with them? Keep them in a jar?
He laughed at his own joke.
Yes, I do. Do you want to see it? Maria placed a palm on his shoulder.

The jar?! You keep it here?! Gary stopped laughing.

Yes, I keep it on my night table. Come, Ill show you. She gestured for him to follow.
Garys mind came back to the present where he sat in his own place, away from cats and sitting
with Maria and Esther who accused him of keeping his house in a mess. He decided to defend himself
against this unwarranted attack on his cleanliness.
I dont agree, he said. I cleaned the place thoroughly, especially for you.
Its not only about how poorly you keep your house, but also the company you keep. Esther
brushed his objection away with a wave of her hand and embarked on another subject.
The company with whom what now? Gary noticed a thick lump of mascara goop hanging off
one of her eye lashes.
The hobo-like hood person who was here last weekyou know who I mean. She tilted her head
back and let out a loud breath.
Gary knew. He gained time to react to this attack on his best friend.
Aw, you mean Garrison!
If this is the name of the long-haired hippie with the offensive tattoo on his forearm, then yes, I
mean Garrison, and I think youll agree he has a bad influence on you. She tightened her lips.
An offensive tattoo? Its a mermaid in a Hawaiian shirt! How can that be offensive? Gary rubbed
the back of his neck.
Shes half naked! And, its the bottom half of a mermaid!
Its basically half a fish, said Gary.
That hippie guy looks like trouble, and since Maria and youre together, it reflects badly on us
when you pass your time with people like him. Esther Rose stood her ground with her arms crossed
and hands resting on her knees.
But the hippie guy is my best friend.
Gary thought of many things he should say, but every time she remonstrated with him, the words
collided in his brain, so he couldnt get them out in any order that made sense.
He thought he would say Garrison was actually a nice guy who held a steady job and paid taxes. He
had known Garrison his whole life and never witnessed him do anything wrong or bad. He wanted to
say that and much more; instead, he cleared his throat and emitted several hmms and errs.

He has long hair and wears earrings. Thats a sure sign hes a druggy, a junky Isnt he? Does he
smoke cocaine? More importantly, do you smoke it with him? Esther Rose steam-rolled onward.
You dont smoke cocaine, you snort it. Gary waved both hands defending him in a knee-jerk
reaction.
Aha! You admit you do drugs with this friend of yours! If not, how do you know so much about it?
I knew it, I knew it!
Know so much? Everyone knows that! I mean Ive experimented, sure but Gary stuttered.
God, what next? Will she want to infer about some kinky-sex side of me next?
Well, up until now, I certainly didnt and neither did my daughter who, thanks to you, is now
exposed to the underworld of drug abuse. Well, I never! The underworld of drug abuse. Esther shook
her head and pointed her scolding finger.
In despair, Gary let his arms fall against his sides.
Mother, Im sure he will never use drugs in the future. Will you, Gary? Can you promise you
wont? Maria reached out to defend him in a way that buried him deeper in guilt.
Phew, thank you, someone who knows my drug habits.
Of course, I can promise I wont use drugs in the future because Ive experimented with them in
the past, but thats all over now, Scouts honor. Gary made the hand and cross signal like he did when
he was a Boy Scout.
Esther softened her tone. The past is the past, Gary; the important thing is you leave all this filth
behind. I mean, if youre planning on marrying my daughter and having children of your own, they
cant be exposed to these kinds of things.
Mom! He hasnt proposed yet! Maria shrieked.
I havent. Gary shook his head and wondered why women always bought up the subject of
marriage.
Well, no, he hasnt proposed, not in so many words, but you two are as good as engaged. Esther
turned away from him, facing her daughter and spoke as if Gary wasnt in the room.
Gary shivered because he felt stunned. He spoke to himself rather than anyone else and asked, We
are?
I dont remember that?

Youve been together for a year now.

Gary sounded like an echo. A year? He didnt get the significance of one year or why it was
some sort of marker.
He publicly took a seat in our family pew at church, Esther plopped both hands in her lap.
Family, he repeated.
Im a good judge of character, so I know underneath his bad habits and lack of proper upbringing,
hes a decent man wholl do the right thing, Maria added with a gleam of ownership in her eyes.
The right thing? Gary opened his eyes wide.
God, he felt uncomfortable.
Even he isnt low enough to waste your time for a year. He has not shown himself in public with
you at church and paraded you in the streets to, after all that leave you and run away like a coward!
Esther tied all the loose ends together for Maria and Gary.
Mother, of course he wouldnt do that! Hes not a coward. Our marriage is a done deal, but I still
think hell propose officially in a romantic gesture; thats what all men want. However, when you
come out and talk of our marriage before he has the time to buy a ring and get down on one knee, it
might be a little, err, emasculating.
Done deal . . . marriage . . . emasculating . . . Something in his mind screamed, Wait a minute!
Whats going on?
The mother and the daughter continued their conversation, which he was a part of, but only as the
subject and not as one of the interlocutors. They spoke of him changing the way he dressed in an effort
to make him more presentable and respectable. They decided his job needed to go up a level to be
more comfortable. They expected him to either earn a promotion or find employment at a higher level.
Both Maria and her mother agreed it wasnt only about the money, for marrying a girl of Marias
class meant he should be the regional manager of something or the director of some other thing,
especially since Maria would be a stay at home mom.
Garys chin trembled. Stay at home mom? Mommy!
At last, Maria pointed at him with her finger and concluded, Mother, I know my Gary well enough
to tell you youre worrying for nothing. Just like Dad, hell tell me he loves me each and every day,
and hell tell me how pretty I am every single chance he gets.
Whoaa! Gary said.

Her dad had created a monster and Gary would need to follow suit. He grabbed for words that did
not stick to his tongue. He could not do anything but cross and uncross his legs.
He tells me every day Im not overweight, Maria added.
Every day, really? Gary almost laughed.
But she is a little chunky. Do I lie? God, now what?
As Marias new man, youll do that too, wont you? Esther questioned.
One of Garys knees bounced, and he felt the tips of his fingers tingle. Oh, Esther, sure, of course I
will.
Maria went on with her discussion. Hes a decent man who understands what commitment means.
He knows theres a lot of work ahead, including making more money, becoming more responsible,
and showing his devotion, but I know for sure he will become the perfect husband in time. You know,
its like at the shelter, because they bring in a cat thats all claws and teeth, but with a little work and
a lot of love, I always turn them into lovable and calm animals with which its a delight to live.
Gary listened as his heart pounded.
She makes them calm and lovable by cutting their balls. Cutting their balls!
Esther lifted a finger in the air. Say, theres a big house down the block and its perfect for raising
a family. The preschool is a block away, and grade school real close. You can bring the kids to visit
Grandma and Grandpa.
A glaze came across Garys eyes and his ears pounded.
School and a new place close to Esther!
When the visit ended and Gary sat alone with his thoughts, the voices went away and he lost his
mental thoughts. A tsunami of images crashed down the protective walls inside his mind. He saw
water flooded over the well and he clawed toward the opening to save his own life. Thoughts spun in
his brain.
Marriage . . . look better . . . respectable . . . more money . . . responsible . . . daily I love you
reminders . . . children . . . Grandma and Grandpa down the street . . .
All these were mammoth life decisions he hadnt thought deeply about before. Because he had no
plans for any of these lifestyle actions, the sudden surge of overwhelming information drowned him.
He felt like gasping for air and envisioned images of TV commercials featuring families buying cars
and homes; husbands buying flowers and jewelry. Would he soon be doing those family things? He

wondered what the future held for him.

His thoughts scattered, but he wanted to focus. He had to collect the ideas and put some form to
them. It would be like summoning all the notions and words, like lyrics to a song that went unsung.
He parked his butt at the kitchen table with a tall tumbler of scotch and wrote a letter:
Dear Maria Rose,
Since youve decided I made a commitment of marriage, though I dont remember doing
such a thing, and since Ive attempted to answer you at times but failed in collecting my
thoughts, I think a letter will help explain a few things between us.
The marriage vows scare me.
If you think for a second that the reason Im afraid of a commitment is because I want to
meet other women, then youre dead wrong. It has nothing to do with other women. Instead,
here are my thoughts. Take a look at the average vows: I take you as my wife. To have and to
hold, to cherish and to keep, through sickness and health, till death do us part.
Commitment is possible for as long as were together, but not until death.
Our Sundays together are not fun.
You always ask what were doing this Sunday after church. I cant invite you on a fishing
trip or into the garage to help change the oil on the car. Its easier for me to do what you want
to do, such as going for a walk or shopping at a place where therere lots of people.
I feel like Im a puppy dog being shown off around to other women.
I dont see how these Sunday outings benefit me. The Sunday outings waste my time and
energy.
You suffocate me.
I cant be around you enough. You want me with you all the time. When Im in the other
room, you accuse me of watching internet porn.
I need personal space.
Your mother, Esther, judges me.
Each time Im with Esther, I get unpleasant vibrations from her. I guess I cant make her
happy. She acts like an authority on us getting hitched and all of my actions.
If we marry, Ill be attached to your mom. I dont want to live with her hovering over me.
My future is not yours to direct.
Maria, you want me to give every action in my life consideration only after I consider your

needs. You want me to share every thought I have with you. You need me telling you that youre
pretty every day.
Your idea of marriage is far too limited for me. You want me earning money so you can birth
children, but I have grander intentions. I want to accomplish more.
If youre willing to accept this, we can discuss being friends, but as things are now, then
living with you is not an option. Are you interested in redefining our relationship and turning
it into a real friendship that works for both of us?
I await your answer.
Maria read the note the next day. Why the hell have I been putting in a whole year with you?
Maria turned into a snarling, yelping animal, and reached her hand high, ready to slap the shit out of
him.
Because you like me you love me? Gary raised his hands in front of himself for protection.
I like you. Are you crazy?
Im not crazy.
Who the hell do you think you are?
A boyfriend?
Youve been a waste of my time! She howled like a dangerous mongrel.
Waste of time? Gary hunched his shoulders.
Yes, a big waste!
Does this mean were breaking up? As he already realized things were over, he made a little
joke.
Okay, I know where this is going.
Yes, Ive lost so much time with you already!
So, Im an investment that didnt pay off?
Youre a big failure.
You stayed with me for a year, just to be married and have a kid?

Yes! Her face gaped open.

Awww, O.K. Gary heaved a deep relieving moan.
Maria left, and the two never reconnected.

Like people confronting a near death experience, immediately, Gary became conscious of the
beauty of life, the people surrounding him, and treasures pleasures of little things. Relieved, after
escaping from Marias death-vows, Gary exchanged boxers for the more supportive tighty-whities.
After coming close to losing his balls, hes now more protective of them.
Magic unfolded for Gary as now he spends Sundays sleeping in late and wakes with a mug of
expensive coffee. He wears threadbare pajamas, browses the internet, and eats cheeseburgers when
he wants. He walks his new dog named Pete, his steadfast and devoted companion, and talks to Pete,
knowing Pete will never confuse or lie. Pete makes life worthwhile. He goes outside, putters around
in the garden, and then works out at the gym.
After lunch, Gary finds joy in the garage tinkering with his 1958 Impala. He might watch endless
sports shows on TV. Garrison drops by often, and when he does, they drink a few beers and smoke
some pot.
Ahhh, life is so good!
Garys days without a marriage commitment match his needs. He gets drunk and hooks up
occasionally, and goes out with the guys to visit strip clubs. Gary finds camaraderie with guy friends,
sharing bonds not available with women.
One Sunday, Gary was searching the internet and read about an organization in Peruhe donated
money. An enormous sense of altruism washed over him, altering his life path; out of the blue, he
scheduled an adventure to ancient Peru, near the Incan Empire and the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu.
To this day, he volunteers as a foreign aid worker who builds homes and shelters for the
disadvantaged. His dog, Pete, travels with him.
Gary loves the feelings associated with constructing homes for others in need. Gary says his
volunteer work in Peru is boosting his spirits in ways that he never dreamed possible. It has become
his passion.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Marriage vows do not reflect a current world view.lxxxv lxxxvi
Women need a man saying theyre not fat and pretty every day.lxxxvii lxxxviii
Women need men saying they love them as often as possible.lxxxix xc
Women demand men consider their thoughts and feelings over their own.xci
Women show other women that they caught and own their man.xcii xciii
Women wont give men peace of mind, thus man caves.xciv xcv
Women who are overly controlling are responsible for breakups.xcvi
Men: A pet dog will be fully loyal, and not a wife.xcvii xcviii
Women: Are driven by nature to birth children.xcix c
Women will nest and try to get their men to pay and join the nest. ci cii
Men: Youre marrying her whole family, get to know her mom.

Chapter 5
Brotherhood Code Destroyed
PRIVACY NOTICE
Call them Bill Lee and Frank Cunningham, two twenty-nine year olds. They could be any two
best friends with true identities needing protection from stalkers seeking to cause pain and
extreme misandry. Therefore, their personal IDs remain a closely guarded secret, tucked safely
away in a basement file box at 111 Broadway, NYC better known as the Trinity Building
featured in the motion picture Spider-Man 2. The view from Bills and Franks offices on the
18th floor looks down onto the historic spire of Trinity Church.
From the familiar rhythm of the approaching footsteps, black-haired, pint-sized, Italian Frank
recognized his slight Chinese friend Bill Lee passing by his cubicle at Goldman Sachs. Setting the
phone down, he swiveled around on his chair, and with a welcoming gesture, called out in a stage
whisper, Hey, Bill, you thirsty? Got some stuff to talk about.
Stuff to talk about? Bills stomach rolled, Sure, dude, if you want. Pound & Pence after we check
out? As he spoke, Bill recalled something dreadful that had happened a long time ago. Back in the
eighth grade, Frank had become involved in a humiliating event and Bill had slinked out like a
coward and left Frank to deal with the brutal fallout. That will never happen again Bill thought.
Ill meet you there. Franks smoky eyes danced.
So, what is the stuff were talking about? Bill bit a fingernail as the other fingers tingled.
Quiet, keep it bro code, dude, Frank prompted in his usual alpha attitude.
Sure, no girls allowed, I got it. Bill winked an eye and zipped his lips with quick gestures as he
always did. He imagined juicy details of the best sex ever.
They were both bright, savvy stockbrokers in New York City, younger than springtime in their
astute sexual prime, and ready to attempt anything except marriage. Physical stature drew Bill and
Frank together both scrawny kids who were always the last two picked when time came to choose
up sides for playground competitions. As outcasts, together they warded off routine tormenters. Their
difference in ethnicity didnt matter to them one bit. They grew up together and when the time came
both ventured off into the world as a team. In college, they studied business and computer science at
New York University, while at the same time conducting serious research into the dynamics of sex
with college girls. Having studied diligently through college, Bill and Frank were well prepared for
life after graduation, and immediately attracted careers in Wall Streets financial sector.

After work, Bill walked with a bounce in his step toward the Pound & Pence Pub feeling like a kid,
about to unwrap all the presents Santa left under the tree. His pulse increased with every step and he
became breathless as he tried to figure out what secrets Frank would divulge maybe Frank had
stumbled into a debauched party and fucked several girls brains out. His feet jittered with each
stride. Bills parents emigrated from China to Southern California and gave birth to Bill in San
Gabriel three weeks after they arrived from Beijing. Eager to assimilate, they named their States-born
son Bill; assuming a traditional all-American name would ease his assimilation into the new culture,
but that didnt happen.
Bill was different. In grade school, other kids made fun of his features, skin color, hair and small
frame. They called him names and sometimes waited after school to chide him. Bill took the abuse in
stride, channeling his frustration into a conduit for success in school and now on Wall Street.
Bright-eyed Bill filed into the pub, fidgeted with his shirt collar and felt immersed in the pleasant
smell of peanut shells and beer. He waved at Frank who gazed over at the ESPN highlight reels
flashing across a flat-screen television.
Frank signaled Bill to a nearby bar stool.
The dcor reeked of vintage English memorabilia, accented by dark stained wood and two 10-foot
sepia-toned murals representative of late 19th century street scenes. He engaged with the light
reflecting off the murals and pub passageways causing Bills face to take on a darker flush. The
atmosphere brewed a seduction making it easy to imagine being in a different time and place and what
outrageous events Frank had to reveal.
Bill remembered the first time he and Frank had raised a toast at the Pound & Pence. Weeks after
Bill turned 21, he learned, to his chagrin; a small amount of alcohol caused a bright flush to appear on
his face, raising concern. As an adult, he found studies showing half of Asians lacked the enzyme to
process alcohol. He thought its an Asian thing. Torn between his love of beer and vanity, he endured
the reddish coloring.
As Bill clamored atop a bar stool, Frank motioned to Jason behind the bar. As a seasoned
bartender, Jason commanded respect from the Wall Street suits crowded into the Pound & Pence. Bill
admired his tall and muscular body with arms that bore the entire history of his life. Lurid scrawls
from tattoos dotted his graying temples. Bill never worked up the courage to ask if the tattoos were
from a gang or prison time. Jason spoke with a precise British accent. If provoked, which rarely
happened in these dignified surroundings, Jason could unleash a string of devastating profanity-laced
tirades in his native Texas accent with the forceful stage presence of James Earl Jones.
Gentlemen, IPA and another lager, right? Jason asked.
What a memory, cracked Frank.
Frank chose a mug of IPA. Bill went with a lager.

Whats bothering you? Getting some good fuckin? Bill wet his lips.
No, this is kind of serious its about Kadie, Frank settled back and forth on his bar stool.
You know as far as Im concerned, shes great. What is it? Bill stiffened his spine and leaned
closer an inch.
Jason slid their drinks in front of them and picked up Franks American Express card.
This is between bros, Frank bowed a nod and tipped a taste of beer.
Not a word to any chick. I got it. Bills heart raced as he waited for Frank to spill his guts.
Hell no, chicks dont get it. Frank placed an invisible key in his mouth, twisted, locked it and
gestured like he threw away the key.
All bro code, dude no girls allowed, Bill pointed one finger to his lips in a gesture of silence
and secrecy. Bumble bees spun in his belly as he sipped his beer and rested closer egging Frank to let
loose.
Frank broke the silence, Well, shes been comin on strong lately, always telling me she loves me.
I feel like Im falling for it.
Soooo, Bills belly flattened, whats your problem with Kadie? He turned one ear closer
toward Frank.
Im in love, Franks face reddened and he looked down.
Are you serious? Bill heart stopped a beat as he coughed on his beer. He wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand and scooted his bar stool closer to Frank as his entire body tightened up. He
reached out and brushed lint off Franks shoulder as if he could shoo away his emotions.
Bill had always been all ears for Frank, because he thought he needed extra guidance. Sometimes,
like a lost soul, Frank needed the support of his friend in order to make decisions or succeed at goals.
You need a little of my Chinese Grandmas wisdom, Bill clasped Franks shoulder with one hand
and rocked him back and forth.
Yeah, Im wading into the deep shit, Frank chuckled and his face sulked.
You know what shes after, right? What all women are after? Bill cautioned, lifting an index
finger into the air.
My big dick? Frank laughed into his beer and grabbed his crotch.

Ha ha you wish. Its your wallet, dude. Ive told you beforetheyre gold-diggers by nature, even
Kadie. So whats she up to? Bill bit his lip.
Frank stared at Bill and muttered, Marriage, I think.
Dont do it, dude. Bills gut sunk and he gave Frank a light-hearted shove to the shoulder and
glanced around the pub as his underarms sweated profusely.
I like making her happy. You cant blame me for that, Frank grinned, wobbling to one side as he
recoiled from the soft shove.
Bills eyes squinted. Not marriage. Thats why we call it the Bermuda Triangleonce you slip
inside, youre doomed to a life with Mom and kids. Instead of drinkin at the pub with me, youll be
deciding between driving the minivan or the fuel-efficient commuter car. Once you arrive into the
Bermuda Triangle, youll vanish without a trace. A sour taste invaded Bills mouth. Time for
another swig.
She says she loves me, Frank sheepishly grinned and shrugged his shoulders as if trying to justify
his decision. The look brought back high-school memories to Bill of when neither of them was
popular. Once, Frank managed a date with a curly-haired hottie way out of their league and she ended
up dumping him for the football jock. Afterward, Frank suffered a painful heartbreak, taking months to
recover.
Wait til you see the senseless shit shell be buying with your money, Bill choked as he downed
another satisfying mouthful of beer.
Love is a powerful thing, Frank put an open hand on his heart.
Love? Cmon, Bill leaned in closer. The thing thats driving her is kids and a nice house. All
she wants is a fall guy to buy her new clothes, boat, and take her on cool vacations. Youre gonna be
the sucker paying for it all. Id be careful, too. If she finds out youre rethinking the marriage, you may
discover shes accidentally pregnant with your kid. Thats all it is, bro its not love. Bill pushed a
firm chin toward Frank, and then plucked at his own sleeve.
Shes been really good to me, Frank rubbed his heart with a loose fist.
When you fuck a girl, she falls in love, its some kinda law. But its not the same for us men.
Then, what the hell happened to me? Why am I soaring like a gooney bird? Frank fingered the
bridge of his nose.
What if Kadies extorting you with love? Bill elbowed Franks arm as a gesture of jostling and
joking.
Extorting me? Fuck that. She loves me and says were best friends, Franks body tensed as he

grabbed his package and adjusted his nuts.

Dude best friends? She knows nothing bout being best friends with you, Bill shook his head
and thrust a hand sideways like a judo chop.
Frank scowled and clenched his teeth, Thats such bullshit!
Women arent able to be best friends, and theyre far too jealous and suspicious to be best friends
with anyone. Face it, bro, youre whipped. Bill leveled the back of his hand across the bar and
scuttled it in one direction as if dismissing Kadie entirely.
Yeah I admit she can be a little clingy when were out, especially when theres a lot of other
eye candy around. Thats normal, right? Franks brows lifted.
Theyre all are jealous. Why in the hell would you get married? Damn right, Im telling you, when
she says shes your best friend, shes desperate! Shes at the end of her tether. The clock is ticking and
shes desperate to birth babies before it is too late, Bills breathing grew heavier, and he used the
bar napkin to dry a gathering sheen of sweat off his forehead.
Desperate . . . fuck you, Frank clenched his right fist and a deep furrow appeared above his
brows.
They complain about how much pain they go through to give birth, when its them who wont feel
like a whole human being until they do give birth! Bill pounded a fist onto the bar. I hate how
women always need to birth or else they would be hated by other women they know who have kids.
Martyrs, Frank echoed with a head shake.
Bitches shes got you by the balls. Bill grabbed his own balls and tugged. I worry
somethings gonna happen to screw things up between us Frank.
Hell, no, Frank affirmed as he leaned back and pushed Bills shoulder away.
Okay. So, youve seen that show where the obese, dog-ugly women become pen pals with
convicted murders? Bill crossed his arms.
Ohh yeah then they fall in love, Frank pantomimed with a suck-up kiss.
Desperate, right? Theyre hopeless; they fall for a killer, a convicted killer, one behind bars, all
because theyre too ugly to sucker a normal guy like you! Bill made goo-goo eyes and crossed them
like a crazy person.
Whats this have to do with Kadie and me? Frank said with jerky head movements.
Stay with me here, Bill said with overstated seriousness, These fat, ugly pig-women always say

theyre in love and theyll do anything to get their killer freed. Sensing tension in his shoulders, Bill
stretched an arm high to unkink the stiffness.
Right, its fucked up dude. And then they marry the guy while hes locked up. Whats your point?
Frank tapped his index finger on the bar.
They think the only thing important in life is to have kids and a family! Theres nothing else for a
bitch! Bill slammed a fist harder onto the bar.
So they love kids, Frank twitched and rocked on his butt.
Kinda like best friends? Bill drew in a long breath as he waited for Franks response.
Thats stretching it pretty thin, Billy boy. Im no convicted murderer, Frank punched at the air and
looked away.
Look, look here, its not so different. Shes using those love words and reeling you in just like
the prison wives who love condemned murderers and say theyre best friends. Its a hook to snare
you. Bill tilted his forehead toward Frank as he waited for him to realize the truth, hoping some of
his ideas would find their way into Franks mind.
Come on! The veins in Franks forehead throbbed he drew a slow breath.
If they dont show society and other women they have a man, then they look worthless!
To hell with that! He slid a clenched hand close to his gut.
Im serious. This Kadie thing is going the wrong way. Bills arm muscle tightened as if readying
to defend him.
Dont say that, Frank waved his finger and leaned back.
No, I am saying that. You come on! Get a grip! Youre losing perspective, Bill pushed Franks
shoulder.
Dont touch me like that. Frank tightened his eyes and snarled.
So touchy, Bill fired back. He knew he had touched a painful nerve. Its the way he knew to
change Franks hellish ideas. His head started to hurt, as it went into overdrive thinking about the best
argument.
Damn right, bitch. Im touchy. Frank stood up with trembling knees.
Go a day or two without calling her. Shell get annoyed and start asking whats wrong with you.
Shell be all over your ass! Bill pushed his face closer to Frank with one hand clasped to his chest.

An empty feeling enveloped his gut.

Just because youre not getting any, doesnt give you the right to talk like this, Frank edged closer
to Bills face.
Excuse me. Not getting any? Bills heart pounded and he stood up to face Frank with burrowed
brows.
Frank interrupted, You know what I mean. Not doing a normal double take when a ten walks by.
Your game is gone, man. Frank stood toe to toe against Bill and stared him down.
Whats that supposed to mean? Bill pushed toward Frank. Bills small stature didnt stop his
temper from flaring.
Are you jealous of Kadie? Franks darkened eyes blasted at Bill.
Hell, no, the sweat bead on his hands belied Bills affirmation.
Then dont fuck with me and Kadie! Frank raised one finger from a clenched fist and pushed it
into Bills forehead hard enough to make his neck bend backwards.
Bill tried to mask his rapid heartbeat and rising voice, I hate seeing you bein taken to the cleaners
by some piece of tail.
Shut the fuck up. Kadies not some piece of tail! Frank growled, grabbing Bills shirt sleeve. He
tugged hard before releasing it.
Mind your blood pressure, dude. Shell become a bitcha fat one, too, Bill raised his hands as
wide as possible as if illustrating the changes.
You dont know when to shut up, do you? She loves me for who I am, not for my money! One
closed hand beat his chest.
The commotion finally prompted a stare from Jason. He stepped towards them.
No, listen! Bill yelled back with a raised hand.
Frank yanked Bill by his collar with one hand and placed his face nose to nose with his own. You
need to stay the fuck out of this!
Bill felt spittle in his face. No, youre
Hey! A loud, angered voice jarred the two of them, Can you guys calm down? Were running a
dignified joint here, Jason beckoned with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Hes bein an asshole! Frank stammered as he loosened his grip.

Only ladies and gentlemen drink here, Jason responded, raising his hand, Just cool it if you want
to stay in here. His muscles tightened reflexively in readiness to separate the two friends if
necessary.
Bill took a deep breath and sat down on the bar stool again, Okay, I guess I rode you pretty hard.
Ya think? Frank rubbed a hand over his face and relaxed back onto his bar stool.
After a pause, Frank held an unfocused gaze and gave a shallow sigh, You know what Im thinkin
about? he asked in a calmer voice. Legg Lake.
Legg Lake? Bill repeated. Hurtful memories flooded into his mind as if they had happened the
day before memories he didnt want to recall, We used to skip school to go fishing and get away
from the bullies.
It seemed like they hated us just because we were us, Frank sounded detached.
They hated me, thats for sure, Bill remembered those years when he wished time would speed
up and land him in the future with grown up looks and good posture.
Seemed so, Frank widened his eyes. I hadnt thought about Legg Lake for a long time.
Ah, so peaceful, walking along the creek bed barefoot, Bill spoke as if back in time. He looked
down at his and Franks feet, remembering the rippling water and the peaceful, symmetrical rings
formed each time a foot plunged into the still wetness. The memory formed a lump in his throat. He
could almost feel the creek mud oozing between his toes. Bill reached down to clutch a foot as if
massaging his toes; turning inward, his mind slowed.
Yeah, sure was fun. All of the crud we dealt with in school fell away, Frank said, his voice as
soothing as the calming waters of Legg Lake.
Those were good times, Bill remembered the warm summer sun shining down on his skin. The
mental picture made his face and limbs tingle.
Those were great times, I loved those days, Franks eyes darted to one side then the other, trying
to keep from tearing up.
Remember the time that asshole beat the crap out of me for no reason? Bill rubbed a hand on the
back of his head and winced in the memory.
Sure do, Frank acknowledged with a nod.
He wanted to injure me. And for what? Bills limbs shook and his face slackened. His eyes were

fixed straight ahead as if in a distant universe, then he rubbed his hand over his shivering forearm.
Because youre Chinese? Franks shoulder rose.
He yelled Bamboo Coon and Chink at me. All those insults made my stomach turn so
embarrassing. I grew up here in America, you know.
The thoughts brought a cringe to Bills face and he flushed hot. His heartbeat slowed to the pace of
a slug.
God, he was an A-hole! Frank made a short sympathetic stroke with his hand on top of Bills.
No kidding. Maybe he did it because Im short. His shoulders drooped and he pressed a fist to
his lips.
Or he thought he wanted to bash a queer? Frank jabbed back, poking Bill in the ribs with his
knuckles.
What a jerk. I cant help Bill bent his neck forward attempting to gain control while reliving
the agonizing beatings.
He miffed you, didnt he? Frank asked.
Yes, he offended me. The next time we were at the lake, I cried, Bills voice tightened and his
stomach spun with each flashback. He hunched over and buried his face in his hands, afraid to show
the emotion he felt. He didnt want to look like a sissy, and he didnt know how to communicate it, but
he needed comfort from Frank. He drew his limbs close to his body and looked straight at Frank as he
spoke, You cant erase those memories, but you can bury them.
Frank sat quietly as he listened.
You didnt call me a faggot or a crybaby. Sure I cried, but I felt safe that day cause you were
there. Bills breath hitched and a lump formed in his throat.
Youre kinda gay, but youre not a dweeb. Never, dude, Frank reassured Bill with a laugh before
reaching over and messing up his hair.
Silence enveloped them for a moment until Bill continued, I never told ya thank you for that. He
choked out the words.
Youre my friend.
I got one more for ya. Remember eighth grade when I left you like a chicken shit? I never told you
how sorry I felt after running out of the restroom. What a chicken shit coward, Bills eyes watered
and lips trembled. He shot a quick gaze at Frank as if still running away in terror.

Frank responded in a way as only a friend who truly understands could, We both took some
beatings in those days. Its over now though, so dont worry about it.
Well, Im really sorry for being such a yellow belly and jamming out on you when they attacked,
made you bleed. As youre my witness, Ill never do that again, Bill made a fist and bumped Franks
upper arm with a gentle force of a man who loves another man.
Thanks Bud. We survived, Frank whispered.
Then a grin broke out over Bills face and he laughed, Dude, we were a pretty dorky pair.
What nerds, Frank rocked back, joining his friend in laughter. Any tension between them
disappeared.
Bill sat straight up on his stool and apologized, Hey, Frank, Im sorry about what just happened.
Frank looked up with a smile, You mean the Kadie thing? Its history.
I took it too far. I can see you really do care for Kadie, Bill gently patted him on the back as
Bills heart felt full.
Two more here, if you would, Jason, please, Frank called out.
Time to kiss and make up? Jason joked as he pulled on the lager tap.
Yea, were dating again, Frank winked at Jason.
He plays the girl, Bill quipped, as Jason placed the second round in front of them and took away
the empty mugs.
Listen, Frank placed both hands on Bills shoulders, I protected you from the bullies back in
high school. Now youre protecting me from New York gold diggersso you think, anyway.
And I wasnt your bitch back then, Bill laughed.
I guess pussy makes us do weird things, Frank zinged back, shaking his head and laughing along
with Bill. He put his arm around Bills head for a few seconds before settling back onto his stool.
Yeah, Bill replied, God gave us each a brain and a penis, but only enough blood to keep one
head working at a time.
If it wasnt for the pussy, I wouldnt talk to women, Frank howled with a laugh.
Gotta get the vadge, and if its sweet, Ill put up with her emotional shit, Bill reached for his next

beer and raised his mug to Frank.

Pussy is pussy, and Ill put on the charm to get it, Frank trumpeted and clinked his beer against
Bills mug. They each reached out with their drink-holding arm, extended it toward the other, bent it at
the elbow and took a swig of their beer.
After that, the conversation took on the distinct feel of an analytical debate.
Frank, ever notice how women let themselves go after the first kid? Bills stomach bowed as he
pushed it out.
Fat chicks are only good for fucking, right?
The fatter, the more dicks they might get.
Frank quickly added, And imagine the huge hunks of lard hanging sidesaddle on the hips! Fucking
gigantic. I aint fuckin that youd need two seats on the airplane for that load.
Dont forget the lump-filled, cottage cheese legs, Bill laughed louder.
Yup, a real ugly-assed woman. You see her fat ass going in and out of the house as the neighbor
kids gape and laugh, Frank squished his face like he just ate a sour lemon.
Im telling you, Frank, itll be embarrassing. You better prepare yourself cause most women end
up mammoth after they birth the little monster, Bill warned with a wagging finger.
Yeah, the real horror show is over at the Wal-Mart in Secaucus. All the fat bitches come out of the
woodwork when theres a clearance sale, Frank laughed.
Bill chimed in without missing a beat, Shell be riding one of those machine-like carts. You know
the ones, right? The carts you always see disabled and fat people riding on who are too lazy to walk
around the store. Shed be ridin those carts with her fat ass cheeks drooping like sagging-skin
pillows, saddle bags on both sides.
If she farts, itd be an explosion! Frank pinched his nose as if avoiding the imaginary fart stank.
Frank and Bill took turns stabilizing each other as they were seriously close to toppling off their
stools from laughter.
Hear me, Frank; you do need check out her mother. I bet the apple aint fallin far from the tree
probably right next to that big trunk.
Uh-oh, Frank thought out loud, I dont know if I should tell you this, but Kadies mom whew,
Frank gestured with his arms as if imitating a fat wobbling person.

Fifty-inch waist and all jowls on the face? Bill joked, pulling the skin of his cheeks down.
Ahh what a porker. Yeah, your description is dead-on.
Thats why God invented plastic surgery, man, Bill chuckled. Say hello to how sweet Kadie
will look twenty years down the line. Shell have the same saggy tits, loose jowls, and extended
waistline her mother has. You said it yourself; you cant poke a fat fuck hole.
Plastic surgery, ugh so Ill need to spend more money to cut the fat off so I can fuck her ass,
Frank grimaced.
And dont forget about the spa treatments shes gonna insist on having to try to make up for all the
abuse shes put her face and body through, Bill chided, not to mention the mental and emotional
abuse youll fucking endure. How is she gonna make up for that?
Good point, Frank affirmed. What about my feelings?
Men are people, too, Bill added for good measure.
Wow, Frank declared with newfound clarity, love can be blind!
Sorry for the reality check, Frank, but someone had to do it, Bill preached with conviction,
shell nag you every day until you want to push her away. Then when you do, shell file domestic
violence charges, when in fact, shes the one who started it all with the fuckin bitching!
Man, maybe I should walk away like everyone says.
Shell follow you, bitching and pushing you to your last limit. Shell make you want to punch her!
Thats what they do.
Like some kind of bitch sicknessAWFAbusive Wife Syndrome, Frank said.
Its a fact. And check this Bill whispered as he leaned in closer to Frank, pregnant women
gross me out. His belly stewed with a nauseous feeling and noise roared in his ears.
Once they gain the weight, its impossible to get rid of.
Super ugly, lop-sided bitches, Bill emphasized, glancing around uneasily as he spoke.
Oh, stop it. Thats just wrong to say!
Who made up that rule? Since when do we need to be politically correct all the time? Bill drew
a line with his finger across the bar to grab some peanuts.
Thats just the way of the world, Bill. There is a line and we cant cross it, so lighten up on the

female hostility, Frank exhorted.

So is God going to punish us? Bill gazed heavenward.
Damn right! Frank warned. Hell send a bolt of lightning down and terminate your China-mans
ass.
Fuck you you tiny dicked Italian stallion. Well, okay, Im scared now but its gross, even when
its Jessica Simpson, pregnant and posing naked. Who could get their dick hard for something that
looks like that? Bill suggested, looking at his own belly before popping peanuts into his mouth.
Youre painting a picture of a huge porpoise, or a small whale with an ovular portly belly, Frank
pointed out to Bill. He suddenly became uncomfortable, swallowing his beer and almost choking. He
gathered himself and smoothed his shirt.
And when theyre on the rag, oh my God! Bill scrunched his nose and experienced an urge to
spit.
Thats bloody gross if you ask me. Frank nodded in agreement. Thats worse than the mood
swings and when theyre at your house during that time of the month. I dont want that shit in my
trash can.
Before long, youll be using discarded tampons for vampire tea bags, dude. Congratulations on
your new best friend, Bill held his stomach and felt unclean.
No kidding, Ill be stuck there once a month wondering who lit the fuse on her tampon.
Shell smell like skank-stench! Bill blurted, pinching his nostrils shut. A sour tang flickered
through his mouth. Time for another swig of beer!
Frank laughed and pretended to vomit.
Shell go out in public showing off the big pregnant belly. If not enough people see her, shell start
posting pictures online with daily sonogram and belly updates, he visualized, waddling side to side
on his bar stool while stroking his throat with a grimaced look.
Bill winked knowingly. And after she has the baby, everything will change, man. Shell stop
craving your cock, and the only thing shell be wanting is more money from your bank account. He
wrung his hands like he wanted Frank to wash the bitch out of his hair.
I dont know. Its nice right now, being her best friend and getting all her attention, Frank tapped
his bottom lip.
The baby will be her new best friend, just you watch. And when you need pussy, youll be paying
for it, big time, Bill rubbed three fingers together as if scratching dollar bills.

I cant be second in line. I need sex, Frank grabbed his crotch, and women wonder why men
cheat.
Start saying good-bye to sex when the kid comes, Bill folded his arms across his chest.
As far as I know, you dont have a crystal ball.
No, just two big balls, Bill parried, ya know God dont strike me down whores are great!
Once youre married, you can try to pick up a streetwalker. He fidgeted and tapped his foot and
surveyed the heavens.
I like em hungry for my cock, Frank blustered with a shit-eating grin.
Suck on da hose, ho. Bill framed his crotch with both hands and looked up in mock anticipation
of Gods murderous lightning bolt.
Frank turned serious again. Look, if we do get married, I want to stay married. It seems like
everyones getting divorced these days. Marriage is supposed to be forever, he flapped his hand as if
dismissing the divorce statistics.
Im telling you, Frank, all that forever shit is fucked up, trumpeted Bill. I know married friends
who cant get out the door alone. No more boys night out for them. The hair stiffened on the back of
his neck.
But they do get their poontang, right? Frank probed, lifting one finger.
Not like they used to. You ever heard the phrase: using sex as a weapon? Youll fight for sex any
and every time you can.
I know I cant go long without some lovely woman-flesh around my bone, Frank said, and then
farted. Pardon me.
Oh man, Bill whined, pinching his nose, that smells worse than a cunt on the rag.
You love it, Frank teased.
Fuck yer ass, whore, Bill replied.
Ill fuck you pretty boy, Frank offered crudely with a sense of wanting to possess.
Okay, try it, dude. Hit that hole like its a pussy, Bill pushed his rounded ass into the air.
I aint gay, but your ass looks good, Frank laughed.

Can you imagine any man whos not getting any good pussy-hole? Bill challenged by showing his
palms and lifting a single brow.
Yeah, but the problem is the fun-tunnel comes connected to a crazy psychotic bitch, Frank
scratched his nuts.
The mood swings, the hormone problems, the bitchin, the kids, and a bleeding slit have to say
love ya every day. Man, dont do it. Dont get married, Bill pushed his shoulder.
Its the way of the world, man, Frank waved one hand dismissively, you dont seem to get it.
Youre the one who doesnt get it man and youre going to get even less. You are whipped!
If you say so, Frank shrugged his shoulders as if to say were done.
Ask any guy whos been there; in the divorce she gets half the money, the house, child support, and
alimony. If you want to live large, pal, avoid the vows, Bill leaned back, arms crossed, knowing full
well he exaggerated the negative.
Yeah, love is grand. Divorce is a hundred grand, said Frank. The laws favor the women.
Theres this law, Bill explained, that states something like, if a man cant or wont pay support
and alimony, they can garnish your bank account. They can take away your car and all kinds of shit
like that. Itll leave you homeless. His jaw stiffened and his face reddened.
Ive heard about that, too, Frank acknowledged with a deepening tone in his voice.
Yup, the whole divorce thing is skewed toward helping the woman and hurting the man, Bill
lifted his chest upwards and widened his legs to expose more of his crotch.
No good, cock-sucking bitches! Frank sniped, gulping the last of his beer.
You should find out if you really love her, Bill proposed, snapping his finger and palm together to
signal an idea, Why dont you cheat on her and find out? Best way to see if her cunt is worth it is to
try out someone else. He issued a risky challenge he hoped would pay off.
Hmmm Frank muttered slowly.
You need to get real, dude. You know youll fuck around eventually. So do it sooner, and if it
makes you feel bad, youll know it is real love. And if you find out the grass really is greener on the
other side, then youve saved yourself the stress of a divorce.
No way, Frank said, changing his tune again. Thats a shit-for-brains idea.
Noticing the two empty beer mugs in front of them, Frank requested two more.

Last two, said Bill, staring through his empty mug.

Jason, Frank raised his hand, Two more, por favor, and well take care of the tab, too.
Jason did the wink-and-point, letting them know two more were coming up.
Bill turned toward Frank and said, All Im saying is, hey, Ive been where you are a couple of
times. But I never felt like it was reason enough to sign my entire life away. He punctuated the air
with his fist.
It feels like the right way to go, Frank directed a stiffened finger straight ahead as if pointing the
way.
Bills visibly lower energy level muted his efforts. In a subdued voice he tried once more, Love
aint everything man.
Jason brought two beers and placed them on the bar, along with the credit card receipt.
Cheers, dude, Frank lifted his beer and clinked it against Bills mug. They both took a gulp.
Think about it, Bill. I might have a son or daughter, Frank shared, staring upwards into the
distance, Thats posterity. Play baseball with the boy and beat up the girls boyfriends.
Bill rubbed a hand on his chin before responding, Yeah, Im getting that.
Its going to be the best thing for me. If I want kids, I have to get married. But Im not changing
diapers. I need a bitch to do that, Frank took another swig of his beer.
A lot of guys think the same way, Bill thought about his own legacy.
Ill raise them, mold them, and be a better dad than the one I had.
Sure, that could be fun. Warm feelings radiated from within Bill making him feel taller and
stronger.
It will be fun. Ill take them fishing, Frank wistfully lifted an imaginary fishing pole.
Bills gut fluttered as he turned toward Frank, and with a look only Frank would understand, halfjokingly said, Maybe youll even take em to Legg Lake.
I wonder if its anything like it used to be. Frank asked, as much to himself as Bill, I can row out
to the middle of the lake with the boy; when hes old enough, we could put some beers on ice and kick
back in the boat.

Maybe I can tag along as the Uncle? Yes, I can envision those good old days again. Bill glazed
over with fond memories of feeling his legs dipping into the lakes warm waters. He felt unexpected
solace thinking about sharing new moments with Franks children. He hummed a silly childhood tune.
What a wonderful life it could be, Frank imagined out loud, appearing lost in thought as he
envisioned weekends at the fishing hole with his kids.
Yeah, I like the idea of molding the kids into great people. Thats a huge responsibility, Bill felt a
newfound sense of awareness.
Its a proud tradition, having kids. Without that tradition, we wouldnt be here, Frank reminded
Bill as they toasted.
You could teach those things they need to know to grow up and maybe change the world someday,
Bill pulled in a deep breath and widening his eyes as he thought more about the process of mentoring.
Maybe one could be a politician.
Maybe Frankie Jr. will grow up and become a scientist invent things, Bill smiled turning
possibilities in his mind.
He could invent a cure for something, save lives, Frank declared with his chest thrust forward.
Lets drink to that, Bill said with gusto lifting his beer, To Frankie Jr.
They tipped mugs again and Frank tenderly confessed. That would be way cool.
You go, bro, Bill urged Frank.
It would be so much fun doing things with them, taking them places and watching em learn how to
do things, Franks hands scattered like they were moving across a map.
A trip to Disneyland! Bill recommended, So much do and learn there.
Florida is its own adventure too, man, prompted Frank.
I see me doing things for em; maybe Id buy them a puppy for Christmas. He bounced his butt up
and down on the stool.
Whoa, bro, youd be a wonderful uncle in all of this! Frank leaned his head back with a big
smile.
But just then, Bill paused, his face evened out, and his expression flattened, Whoa, Bill said with
a startled tone in his voice. He felt his heart drop with a big thud.

What is it? Frank asked.

Just whoaId be an uncle, Bill spoke softly, still pensive as soured thoughts enveloped his
being.
Wait, what? Frank asked again.
Listen a minute, Bill whispered, as fatigue flooded his body, causing him to inadvertently tilt his
head away.
What!?!
I dont think Kadies going to want me around, Bill looked down with cold eyes and wanted to
be held.
Dont be such a dork, Frank scoffed. Youd be their uncle. Youd be family.
Youll side with her and get rid of me, Bill shook his head. You know its true. We always said
bros before hos, but it doesnt work that way when youre married.
Never, youre my best friend, dude. She cant make me get rid of you, Frank put one hand on
Bills thigh.
Im serious; shell keep you away from me. Shell control you, Bill pinched his lips and sensed
hollowness inhabit his heart and chest. Honest, she will, his chin trembled.
Dont get paranoid, Frank frowned. Stop being ridiculous.
Shes not going to want you with guy friends, especially single friends, meaning me, Bills flat
face gazed steadily forward toward the bar mirror. His muscles weakened and the throbbing he felt in
his temples made his head pound more.
Dont worry about that, man, said Frank.
No, Frank, Shell be jealous of me, and she wont want you hanging out with any footloose and
fancy-free dudes, Bill insisted, Shell want someone else to be their uncle, someone more
responsible, or married.
No.
I can see her now, shell hate me. Bill so wished this conversation wasnt happening; he knew he
needed to come to terms with his best friends new life and he felt like crying.
Dude, youll be an uncle. Dont worry so much, Frank leaned in and placed both hands on Bills
legs.

Theres no getting around it, Frank, Bill stated with finality, She wont want you looking at
greener pastures. Every time youre around me, youll see how great it is. She wont want you to be
around that temptation anymore. He held back the urge to cry as his face contorted as tears welled
behind his eye lids.
Hey, Mr. Morose, Frank tried to lighten the atmosphere.
No, Frank, I dont think well be seeing much of each other anymore. You get married and get the
girl while I lose my best friend, Bill felt his eyes and nose moistening.
Come on Bill its gonna be fine, great even, Frank assured him with his most encouraging tone
and reached around him and side hugged him.
Its just that I I cant say it, Bill whispered with darkened wet eyes that looked into darkness.
They sat still for a moment. The sound of the television, clinking mugs, and barroom conversation
surrounded them and filled the silence. A wave of blackness swept over Bill as he absorbed the
quaint English mementos and forested atmosphere.
You dont have to say it. Thanks, man. I got your back, Frank said.
If you invite me to the wedding, Ill show up and wish you the best.
Dont cry; youll make me cry too, Frank joked, attempting to break the tension with a laugh.
Dont worry, dude. Ill keep it respectable, Bill rubbed his sleeve under his nose, drying the snot.
His shoulders sagged and his hopes had dropped to the floor.
Wish me the best? Youll be the best fuckin man, bro! Frank barked, and held his arms wide.
Youre closer to me than my family. Really, youre like the brother I never had, Bill sniffled, fully
appreciating in the moment that his world was a better place with Frank in it.
Thats so very cool. I needed that, Frank confessed to Bill, with all the man love a guy could
offer. He motioned Bill into his outstretched arms.
Bill hugged him. Thanks Frank. I love you man. His nose dripped as he stayed in Franks warm
embrace for what seemed a short eternity. This intimate world is where he felt safe and whole. Then,
Bill felt a chill.
I love you, too, bro, Frank said.
They separated from the wonderful embrace, downed the last of their beers and stepped out into the
Manhattan dusk, ambling away into the city skyline. After this evening, they each went about their
separate lives.

Two weeks later, Bill received a wedding announcement. The following spring, he served as the
Best Man at Franks wedding.

Bill transitioned into the healthcare industry, where his income increased as he leveraged his
individual talents. As a Senior IT Specialist, he now develops new inventions; integrating lifesaving
medical information enhancing the efficacy of healthcare practices. His designs lead to improved
therapeutic progress and the maintenance of good health for millions of people. He is popular with
women, but will never marry.
Unfortunately, Frank and Kadies life together unfolded pretty much as Bill predicted. After nine
years, Kadie divorced Frank and won custody of their two children, ownership of their condo, and a
monthly support payment based on his former income at Goldman Sachs.
Kadie hired expert legal representation who happened to be an eloquent proponent of Briffaults
Law.
Soon, what were Franks and Kadies children transformed into only her children. She did
everything possible to alienate the kids from Frank, pushing him deeper into a dark and drunken
depression.
Frank barely managed to meet the expense of his small rented room. Lost in deep darkness, he
became a depressed drunk in a Bowery flophouse until one day he thought of suicide and phoned Bill
to beg, Please help me.
That night, Bills lifetime of faithfulness to his friend rocketed into warp-speed after picking up the
phone to hear Franks voice on the other end of the line. His old friend reached out from the edge of
hell. Bill listened to a mumbled explanation of what life had become for Frank. Instead of living the
dream life of marriage and children, Frank became yet another divorce statistic; a down and out man
sitting alone at the bar without family support.
Immediately, Bill rushed to Franks side in skid row and relocated him into his own large house
and helped him rebuild his financial foundation.

Recovery for Frank took time and moved in phases. Bill nursed him back to a healthy reality after
Frank crashed into the lowest point in his life. Bill successfully guided him through alcohol rehab and
helped him to rebuild a financial foundation.
Today, Bill is in the process of helping Frank establish a new career and Frank is advocating for a
Mens Rights Organization where he works with groups and helps to raise funds for others. His
spirits soared sky-high. His divorce disaster showed him previously unknown charitable motives
which had lain dormant.

Currently, Frank works strenuously toward improving the divorce laws that destroy men. He
spearheads activism against domestic violence, a charge widely caused by women against men. He
finds is difficult to find women to date who feel as he feels.
Frank is a driving force behind changing legal proceedings for the National Coalition for Men.
Healing him first as he helps others, Franks spirit is improving as he rebuilds his life, and all
because of Bill, his confidante and friend.
The deepest depths of despair taught Frank his most valuable lesson.
Kadie still lives off of Franks assets and child support while enjoying the company of another man
who helps to watch over Franks children. She knows if she never remarries, Franks assets will still
be hers for life.
Frank is free and with his old pal, Bill, who never gave up on him. Franks world is moving in a
positive direction with the support of one incredible comrade.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Men need other men for male bonding and nurturing spirits.ciii civ
Men are honest when they bond and bitch with guy friends.cv
Over 500,000 men today pay permanent alimony till death.cvi
77% (on average) of a mans net worth drops after divorce.cvii
70% to 84% of child custody cases award children to the women.cviii cix
77% of women are jealous and suspicious; they cant be best friends.cx
The #2 reason people get divorced is womens nagging.cxi
Men: Once divorced you will pay child support, alimony, and other costs.
Men: Marriage often destroys a mans entire assets and life.cxii
Most women scorned by divorce will take revenge on her ex-husband.cxiii
Men: A woman will ask you to leave your friends for her.cxiv
56% of divorced men say they deplore their failed marriage.cxv
3680 divorced people each week will file bankruptcy.cxvi cxvii
Briffaults law severely penalizes men.cxviii
Men are penalized by the Bradley amendment and no-fault custody laws.cxix
Men: Divorce for men more often ends in suicide.cxx
Many women collect money from exes and state & federal government after divorce. cxxi
Most women are taught to look to get money from men.cxxii cxxiii
Many men feel fine about buying sex.cxxiv

Chapter 6
A Man in Love
During his Iowa City college days, Dennis Wakeland, a caring man with educated blue eyes behind
square-framed glasses, was working in Cedar Rapids, Iowa at the 1928 original Vaudeville Theater
building. After a 2.5 million dollar restoration in 1980, the building had been transformed into a
famed, art deco, classic movie house, screening Hollywoods celebrated old films. Dennis played the
Rhinestone Barton theatre pipe organ, dominating the orchestra pit between matinees every Saturday
and Sunday. The theater, beautifully furnished with ornate antiques, drew attention from movie fans
around the area and gay movie buffs. Dennis gained minor popularity among the regulars and enjoyed
the classics himself, especially To Kill a Mockingbird. With this cultured hobby soothing the souls of
himself and his fans, he never expected his own love story might end with the less-than-romantic
words, Fuck you bitch.
Dennis, thirty-one years old, attended country fairs, amusement parks, and movies. As an
adventurous soul, he said yes often. If he werent so deathly afraid of heights, he would take up
skydiving.
Dennis also worked hard as a lawyer; he settled for weekend warrior status and taking his
cherished motorcycle out for the occasional spin. As with his wealthy ancestors, the Wakelands,
before him, Dennis was a romantic, and fully enamored with the idea of love. He yearned for one
relationship to fill his heart with lifelong passion. Dennis knew the right woman was out there just for
him.
Shifting to fourth gear, his Audi R8 convertible humming powerfully, leaning back into the soft
leather seats, he squinted past the torrent of rain slamming his windshield.
Damn! Ill never forget this night. Dennis rubbed his arms then placed them both on the steering
wheel as he looked around.
Why is that? Joan asked.
Well, Joan, its because Im here with you. He pressed a palm to his heart.
Youre sweet, which makes my new job search easier to manage. Joan waved her hand in
dismissal.
Good and you make me feel like I can tell you everything. His belly fluttered.
Dennis and Joan laughed. Dennis tension eased, all the way from his shoulders to his fingers

wrapped around the steering wheel. He flashed his grin back to Joan and thought back to their first
date, a vintage movie showing, Casino Royale at an art house.
While watching James Bond embark on the adventure of traveling to Madagascar to spy on Melaka,
a notorious terrorist, Dennis had felt his stomach groan. Joan, therefore, attentively tilted her popcorn
bag towards him. She touched his hand against her own as he dipped into her box of popcorn. The
touch sent a shiver across his hand and up his chest. They smiled at each other, and Dennis decided
then and there to see Joan again.
While zigzagging down the winding, rain-soaked streets, Dennis glanced over at Joan, often. She
was beautiful, with soft, blonde hair and a slim body.
Thanks for picking me up tonight. I wont forget this either. Joan touched his leg.
Well, of course. I wouldnt let you walk in this rain! He opened a hand toward the stormy sky.
She patted his shoulder playfully and grinned at him.
He smiled softly and took a relaxed breath. He remembered women, other women, who did not
share his sense of humor. Joan stood out as different because she understood him.
Theres the restaurant. Dennis drove into the parking area and parked. As they got ready to make
the run to the front doors, the rain intensified, beating on the cars canvas rooftop.
Joan toyed with a yellow scarf, and smiled in a way that prickled Dennis with goose bumps.
Daniel Arthurs! she read the glowing red sign hanging above the restaurants front door. Another
nice place.
I know it seems like Im trying to impress you, Dennis chuckled as he buttoned up his coat.
But were just getting to know each other.
Joan tied the yellow scarf over her head. Dennis took notice of her freshly manicured, red nails and
blonde hair combed straight; a vanilla scent wafted through the airwhat kind of perfume was it?
His passions soared and he couldnt contain himself whenever he came close enough to smell Joan.
Let me help you out of the car, he turned the car off and put the gears in park. As he unhooked his
seatbelt he thought how he never considered himself remotely handsome or attractive with a rough
face, not ruggedly, but pock-marked rough from teenage acne. He didnt like his hands that were too
large for his own tastes.
It is our seventh date, she said, so; I think it is okay to tell you I love your new car.
Date number seven, is it? Dennis said over the pelting of rain. Just like a womanyoure
keeping accurate notes. He laughed, opening the car door and grabbing an umbrella, tipping quickly
to her side of the car door for her.

Joan stepped onto the cement, under the umbrella, and Dennis closed the door behind her, wrapped
his arm around her waist, pulling her close as they walked along the sidewalk. The vanilla scent,
mixed with the fresh rain, further intoxicated Dennisall his desires and goals were in front of him.
All he needed to do was act on them.
Its not taking notes, she said, as they approached the restaurant. Its being observant.
Dennis laughed. He opened the door to the restaurant, allowing her full breadth to walk in like
royalty. He pulled her chair out and lent a hand to adjust it. Fair to say that, by this time, Dennis was
strucktruly in love. Everything around them, and each experience, intensified his desire to please
her. His thoughts were filled with her, and his mind brimmed with happiness as he drank in how she
looked, moved, talked, smelled, laughed, and walked.
Of course, Dennis was a very clever man in all matters. A part of him held the idea of buying a
green, window-laden home on a white beach in the Pacific, and living there by himself, swimming in
the mornings and digesting mojitos in the late afternoon under an intense sun. The dwindling voice
inside his head whispered about Joan. The road ahead might contain bumps, or a deep ditch; there
might be a catastrophic crash; Dennis drove blind.
Order anything you like. He reached out and gently tapped her hand.
Thank you, dear. She bowed her head. Ive been having my hair and nails done all day. This is a
break.
You mean making yourself look pretty is work? he chuckled and leaned forward.
Sometimes it feels that way. Her full red lips pouted. I go for the full treatment every month, just
to be ready.
Ready for what? He placed two fingers on his own lips, rubbing the forefinger lightly.
Its always a good idea to make preparations for what few nuances may come our way. You never
know what.
A waiter appeared beside their table.
Go ahead, Joan. You order first, he motioned with an open hand. Showing her off in public was a
pleasure for him.
Id like the filet mignon, medium rare, and the garlic mashed potatoes and julienne steamed
carrots. She tapped a finger on the menus item.
He grinned at Joans differences from his last girlfriend, who lounged about in sweatpants and
insisted on eating well-done steaks. Dennis thought back to his last girlfriend and her annoying voice.

Ill have what shes having. He nodded toward Joan so the server would see his appreciation of
her menu choice.
Halfway through their meal, Dennis and Joan were well tucked into the first bottle of expensive
wine, swooning over each other. She loved the ambient light of the restaurant, and the jazz listing
gently from the hidden speaker added warmth to an already wonderful dinner. The two exchanged
laughs, and, after a brief pause in the conversation, Joan raised her empty wine glass. Dennis picked
up the bottle between them and filled her glass.
Are you enjoying all the chivalry Im showing you? He grinned inquisitively.
What girl wouldnt? Joan titled her head to one side.
I have a question about this. Dennis looked down a moment, knowing this was the type of
question you dont usually ask. Obviously, he needed trust to ask and trust to answer. He had made the
mistake of not asking it before, so he figured he must, but he did not want to offend her. Do you
mind?
Im an open book to you, lovely, she gestured with both palms face up.
Okay, he said, placing the bottle back on the table gently. Do you think people need to be
chivalrous all the time?
Joans brow crinkled.
He found himself staring at her face, loving the way it contorted when she pondered things. I never
thought of it, butyes, it seems right.
So, let me get more to the point. If we were married for ten years, youd expect me to open doors
help you with the shopping bags, and all the rest?
Wow. Married? Thats quite a question, but yes. Id like that. Maybe we can get a maids outfit for
you, too. She rocked her wine back and forth, grinned, and then took a deep sip.
Dennis laughed. This did not really answer his question, but at least she had a sense of humor, even
when they were being serious. Coming as a welcome relief from a past girlfriend who had insisted he
hold her hand through everything, feeling like she clung to him for no reason. Here was someone
specialnot a girl for a boy, but a woman for a man. It makes life so much easier when the person
you are with is emotionally stablenot griping, complaining, and crying for help at every turn.
Dennis shook away thoughts of past girlfriends.
Do you want me opening doors for you till we die? he parted his lips.
Of course, she said, a bit more seriously this time. It is gentlemanly. Dont you think?

He schooled his face into an impassive look, refusing to allow the comment to show any of his
reactions. I dont want to disappoint, but I think guys have it hard to keep these actions up for that
long of a time. They say chivalry is dead. He flatted his palm down and slowed it above the table
before him.
Not in you, Joan winked.
Since they first met, Dennis actually found it easy to maintain the chivalry with Joan; it came
entirely as second nature.
Why wouldnt they? She sat back in her chair.
Well, being overly polite happens when a guy is dating, to impress his girl, and it slows down
after time. Dennis sighed and touched his fingertips together.
You mean after the guy gets her into bed? she whispered.
No, not exactly is that why we havent had sex yet? Dennis leaned back with his hands behind
his head, smiled and squinted.
She laughed. No, but I must be honest Dennis felt something touch his ankle under the table. It
felt soft and exciting. Her stocking foot moved along his shin and clouded his mind with euphoria.
Joans voice, quieter now, further weakened Dennis knees. All this talk is turning me on, she
moved her toes and caressed his foot.
He wanted to know absolutely everything about her. For the first time, he found himself wanting to
know things like what she liked, what she didnt, her favorite color, her tastes, all about her exboyfriends, and the nature of her little quirks.
As the dinner continued, the two got closer, leaning their elbows on the table and speaking in
hushed tones, emitting a lovely intimacy others in the restaurant would have killed for. As they
revealed their various likes and dislikes to each other, the night aged marvelously.
The first bottle of wine, now a distant memorywas it Domaine Leroy Clos de Vougeot Grand
Cru, or Domaine Armand Rousseau Pere et Fils Chambertin Grand Cru?Dennis couldnt
remember. They talked of how they dealt with stress until she said something that gave Dennis pause.
Theres nothing more therapeutic than good shopping sprees.
Well, a good financial future is better, dont you think? he cocked his head to the side.
Maybe the difference between men and women is shopping.
And the decorations in the bathroom, he pointed his fork toward the nearby restrooms and
laughed.

This reminds me of a conversation I had years ago withwith a friend.

Oh, really? Dennis cocked an eyebrow. This friend. What was the conversation about? He
looked at his plate, toyed with a fork, and listened closely.
Well, we disagreed on spending. It was a love-hate sort of deal: I loved to buy things, and he
hated to spend money. She smiled, but for the first time tonight, Dennis felt she held a touch of
sadness, brought on by the shared memory.
What do you think is more important? He pushed the plate away so he could lean an elbow on the
table.
Thats a tough one, she said, and with a sudden sharpness, she continued, Im no expert on that.
However, money is important. After all, we need to buy stuff.
Thats funny. He smiled and gazed into her eyes.
Well, we broke up after both of us went broke. Her eyes sagged.
Really? You miss him?
Yes, I thought he would be the you know Tears rolled down her cheeks.
He was more than a friend, then. Dennis reached forward to wipe her tears with his clean
handkerchief. He touched her with gentle and reassuring hands.
Sure. A boyfriend, I guess. She sat up and recomposed herself. It wasnt as serious as what you
and I have now. We might be opposites with money. Im always buying new clothes and things. I find
spending money relaxing, so Im a spender, and youre a saver. But theres a reason opposites attract
one another. They make great lovers. She leaned in and winked.
Well, Im not sure of that; its a small thing someone can overlook. He told the truth, now
knowing Joan loved him, and he knew he loved her.
Thank you, Dennis. Youre so thoughtful. Joans face oozed warmth.
My dear Im thrifty, even though were eating at nice restaurants and I drive a nice car. Dennis
tucked the handkerchief in his back pants pocket.
So, wait, she said, her brow furrowing. Youre gonna marry me and then starve me? She put a
hand on her stomach and frowned in a stick figure way.
Ha ha ha, thats funny, he held his wine glass up for a toast with hers.

While they finished the chocolate clair dessert, a man dressed in a striking tux came to the table
with a box. Miss Joan.
Um, yes? Her eyes lit upon the deep red wrapped box, thin and rectangular and expertly
wrapped, with the top of a single white lily, tied into the simple ribbon.
For you, madam. He handed her the box. On top of it was a letter. Dennis handed the tuxedo a
piece of money and thanked him.
What is it, Dennis?
A show of appreciationI thought it time for some family connection between us. He sensed
pride and a squirm of excitement, and gestured with an open palm toward the box.
Its so pretty. So heavy. She slowly unwrapped it, and her breath fluttered in a way that gave
Dennis great pleasure. She pulled the gold chain and locket out of the box and stood up. Help me put
in on.
My great-grandmother owned it, given to her by her husband. Its a family heirloompure gold.
Joans smile grew as Dennis continued, Itll look perfect on you, watch and see.
Dennis walked behind her and placed it around her neck, inhaling the scent of flowers and hair
while he fastened the clip. His mind twisted into sexual thoughts; he couldnt deny he was falling for
her.
Your family has good taste. She tinkered with the locket.
You feel good tonight? He hugged her with everyone watching.
Yes, she gushed.
Soon, standing outside, the rain stopped, leaving only a wet sidewalk and the crisp air of night to
accompany the two as they got into Dennis car.
Pulling up to Joans house, Dennis settled the car into neutral and looked over at her. The buzz of
the night and the sexual tension between the two washed away any conversation. They both smiled
like schoolchildren.
Would you like to visit my place next week? Joan asked.
Yes, I would. A stirring buzzed in Denniss loins.
Good. She tilted her head.
Ill be at your place, he suggested and turned to face her, placing her hand into his. What should

we have to eat?
Joan leaned in and placed her free hand on Denniss leg. You, Dennis. Oh, God, I want you.
As Dennis leaned in closer, her hand came between them. I love you.
That week, Dennis ordered a Lisianthus arrangement with a Saffron Crocus center over the internet
to be shipped to her house. His heart was full. He was happy.
That night he started a journal of how wonderful his life had become.
Saturday night . . .
The date was amazing as I knew it would be. Joan does something to me, to my insides, I cant
explain. I want to protect her. I have this urge to capture some abuser, some thief, or some exboyfriend of hers the moment before he is about to do her harm, just so I can smash him down and
end him. I have never had these feelings before, and they are confusing and all-encompassing. I
feel new. I feel strong. If she were to fall, I would catch her before she hit the ground. If she fell
ill, Im sure I would find the cure needed through sheer force of will. Ridiculous? Maybe. But it
is the realest thing Ive ever felt.
I cant wait to see her next week. Until then, I plan on sending her a whole bunch of shit to let her
know what shes doing to me. I will send her chocolates and flowers, the whole gamut.
Wednesday night . . .
Usually Id be knee-deep in pussy around this time. This is my go-out night, but Im not gracing
the door of any strip club tonight. Instead, Im staying here, home, to write about Joan. What
could this be to turn a man into this? If it were bottled, the man who found out how to package
this chemistry would rule the world.
The week moved to the evening meal with Joan. Dennis rang the doorbell, bottle of wine in hand.
The door opened and all other thoughts left him, seeing Joan dressed up for him. She wore a
magnificent Armani dress. It hugged her figure, and, being beige, almost matched her skin tone. The
effect seemed like a burst of light underneath her. He felt home at last.
Come in.
Sure, I thought of you every morning when I woke up. He looked her over once more before
moving through the doorframe. Their eyes locked. I trust you had a nice week.
Just perfect. A friend extended kindness and sent me a few gifts to help the days fly by.
A good friend?
A close friend. She eyed him seductively.

He walked in, she took the wine, and he moved past her. The intoxicating scent from the week prior
lingered; she must have sprayed it on her body once or twice before he came. My mind was filled
with you each day, and I missed you. He felt right about everything.
She led him to the table completely prepared for dinner. On a small table sat two plates and two
glasses for wine. As Joan went to the fridge, Dennis noticed an office off to the side, with a desk with
scattered letters and what looked like bills. Poor girl, he thought.
Ive got a simple meal waiting for us, she said as she eased into her chair. Dennis turned his gaze
back to her. She poured them both a half glass of Italian Brunello.
Thank you, he sipped his wine.
Okay, mister, she began, and Dennis couldnt help but smile as she leaned forward over the table.
Its time to get drunk on wine and get to know each other while the food finishes cooking. Tell me
something I dont know about you. Not like Im curiousI wouldnt want to come off as desperate to
know you.
Huh. Dennis thought for a moment. He wanted to share with her some intimate thing, something
others could not pry from him. He wanted to bare his soul. He wanted to talk about his big family. He
wanted to trust her. Ive always wanted to see if I could write a novel or a screenplay.
Oh! Joan reeled back, grinning and half-laughing with her wine sloshing around in the glass.
That sounds so great.
Yeah, sure.
No, I mean it! She laid a hand on his, and smiled encouragingly.
What would you write about?
Well, I dont know yet. I think Ill take a little course in creative writing at the local college. He
sipped some wine.
Whats the inspiration?
I think writers get some passion under their skin, and they have to share it. It is like how I feel
about you. He smiled.
That is incredibly sweet, Dennis. Ive never met anyone quite like you. She played with her glass
of wine.
Now you know something no one else knows.
I feel privileged. Thank you for sharing that, she said.

I think well have a great future.

Me, too, darling. Ill go check on dinner. Dont go away!
As Joan rose to go to the kitchen, Dennis stood from his seat. Joan.
She turned, her hands resting on her hips. Ill be right back.
I want you to know Im looking, he stood still.
Looking? Her eyebrow arched. Well, now Im curious. Looking for what?
Im looking for someone to spend the rest of my life with, he said, as he held one hand out toward
her.
Her hands dropped. Is that a proposal?
No! Not yet You see I know so little about you still.
Do you believe in soul mates, Dennis?
Now I do.
For Joan, the notion that someone was curious about her, and thought they could have a future
together, was wonderful. And at that moment, Dennis fell head over fucking heels in love and almost
dizzy from it all.
Youll learn about me. Something tells me well have a lot of time to learn about each other. Joan
then went into the kitchen and brought out their meals. There was pasta al dente with sauce, and
steamed mixed vegetables. The wine ranked as the best part of the meal.
After dinner, the topic of jobs came into the conversation.
Are you still between jobs? Dennis looked around her homenice, but a bit messy.
Yes, Joan replied, as she smiled, her chest rising. It seems nobody wants to teach a pretty little
girl to work for them in todays economy.
Youre smart. You could teach them all something, he said.
Joan swallowed the last of her wine and looked up at Dennis. Would you like me to teach you a
thing or two?
Sure, Ill be your student he flushed.

The lights in the bedroom glowed soft on the red silk sheets. Dennis explored Joan with a curiosity.
The cut of her body held perfection. His hands ran up her stomach, over her breasts, and around her
back. Her skin felt flawless. His hands roamed over her body, over her knees, the back of her legs,
and her waist, sparking sounds of pleasure from her mouth. She let out a hollow moan, and she had
one hand on his bare shoulders and the other running through his hair.
His hands never stopped their wanderings, and with each thrust of his hips, he felt closer, deeper,
and more in love. For tonight, they knew each other as well as anyone could know another person, not
in an intellectual capacity, but a feral, natural way. They knew the way of the heart, and the way of the
soul. Their night did not end; rather, it slipped away from them when neither looked. Both closed their
eyes, fully spent and satisfied in each others arms. The next time their eyes would open, it would be
morning.
Dennis woke first; Joan soon cuddled into his arms and rested her head on the crook below his
shoulder. Their legs danced sluggishly beneath the sheets, intertwining and then resting.
Joan? Denniss eyes filled with an inner glow.
Yes, my dear?
Will you be okay, financially? He fumbled fingers through his hair.
Yes, my dear.
Are you sure?
Well She looked out over the bed and into the other room, toward the office with the bills. I
dont know how Im going to get those bills paid. I need four hundred dollars. She looked at him. I
dont suppose youd like to help a gal pay off her credit card?
Dennis looked down at her. She gazed up at him seductively. How could he refuse? Let me take
care of it.
Oh, Dennis! She mooned in relief and glee. Honestly? This would help me so much, but I feel so
bad about this.
Nonsense. Come by my office on Monday. Ill have a check for you there. He then grabbed her
bare ass under the covers and pressed her hips against his thigh. How could I lie here in good
conscience knowing the love of my life struggled?
She nuzzled into him. I love you too, Dennis.
Plus, last night was worth it, he said.
Youre a funny man. Joan traced invisible signs on Denniss chest.

Saturday Night . . .
Ive had sex countless times with countless broads. Ive fucked a good percentage of those
women silly. Shit, Ive even had the odd sensuous encounter; however, nothing was ever like last
night. Last night, Joan and I made love.
I feel as if today is the first day of something new and different. I feel as if I lived underground,
and this morning I popped the top off a sewer cap and caught my first glimpse of actual sunlight.
Joan isnt just the sunshes the air between my feet and the ground. I trust her with everything I
have.
If I were ever to lose her, the fall would be horrifying. I need her like I need the air. I could never
go back to the sewer.
Joan waited twenty minutes after arriving in the office early Monday afternoon. Sitting at the
receptionists desk, she admired the large Matisse print taking up the warm, beige wall behind. Time
wore on and her mind grew hostile. She went from appreciating the elegant dcor of the law office to
resenting it and everyone in it. How could a business operate and keep people waiting like this?
She spied on a woman in pinstriped slacks and a plain white blouse that left one of the offices.
Excuse me Excuse me! Joan waved, and her mouth thinned.
The other woman turned and looked up from the file.
Yes, hello, the receptionist should be here any minute. Shes on break. She went right back to her
original intention.
Joan noticed the womans subtle but sensual curves hiding under her business attire. The womans
brunette hair swirled up in a bun and pulled away from her face, but stray tendrils fell over the side of
her cheek. She looked stunning. This, for some reason, made twist her fingers together with hard
moves.
Im Denniss girl. He left something for me here.
The receptionist looked around on the desk and found an envelope.
Joan? she said.
Thats right. Is it there? Joans chin poked forward.
The woman handed Joan an open plain white envelope with Joans name scrawled on the front. The
woman noticed a check inside, as she handed it to Joan.
Thank you. And whats your name? Joan took the envelope and tucked it into her purse.
Im Shannon. Im Denniss partner. She has a great figure, thought Joan. She thought Shannon

was beautiful and probably smart.

And youve never heard of me?
Im not the secretary. Dennis and I talk business. Of course, hes mentioned your name here and
there. Anyway, hes been in teleconferences since early this morning. He must have forgotten to tell
me he needed to give you Shannon smoothed a strand of hair from the side of her face.
Joan pursed her lips and interrupted. My businesshis and my businessnot yours, the
secretarys, or anyone elses. Joans shoulders squared defensively.
Shannon said, Of course a pleasure meeting you, Joan. If youll excuse me Shannon nodded
briefly and then turned and walked down the hall of the office.
Shannon? Joan squinted.
Yes? Shannon half turned back.
Dennis is a great man, dont you think? Joan stroked her throat.
Hes a great business partner, I know that. Shannon smoothed down her dress.
Just dont forgetyoure business and Im his girlfriend.
Shannon wrinkled her brow. You know She took a step forward toward Joan, the thinness of
her frame seeming all of a sudden sturdy and powerful. Youre right.
Joan wanted to scream at Shannon and tell her that she would never have him, but she contained
herself.
Shannon frowned. You can see yourself out.
Joan sat with her legs crossed and pulled out a tissue and gently sobbed into it, hoping to catch the
attention of someone she could complain to.
Joan? A voice boomed behind her as Joan opened the door. Is that you?
Joan turned around and instantly her face lit up. Brian?
Joan, youre a sight for sore eyes. He approached her and they exchanged kisses on the cheek.
What are you doing here?
Not much! How are you? She quickly wiped her eyes then placed one hand on the lapel of her
blouse, near her cleavage.

Brian was an old friend who was one of the most gorgeous guys she had ever known. Rich, tall,
thin, brown hair, and green eyes, women fell in love with him everywhere.
Oh, always on the lookout for a girl like you to make me happy, but other than that, great
business is up. Brians eyes glanced at Joans cleavage and breasts.
Thats wonderful to hear, said Joan. I just stopped by to see my friend Dennis. Do you know
him?
Dennis? Sure. Works for me great lawyer. Dont tell me youre seeing the old dog nowadays.
Brian shoved his hands into his pockets casually.
Yes, he and I are dating.
God, youre still beautiful, he smiled at her. They exchanged the look of past lovers.
Oh, Brian, youre always so sweet and flattering.
Say, wheres Dennis?
Hes in conference, Joan said, and shrugged helplessly.
And, tell me, my dear, what does ole Dennis have that your Brian doesnt? You know I pay his
bills.
Well, he doesnt have a couple things you may have, she whispered as she leaned into him.
Power, I suppose. She then leaned in and spoke something inaudible in his ear.
Wow well, my dearwhat if you step into my office, and well see if we cant figure out a
solution for both our problems. He moved closer to her, looking left and right to see if anyone was
watching. No one was.

Ten minutes later, Joan left the building for home to shower and meet Dennis later. A lovely evening
they lay on the hood of Denniss car, parked atop one of the citys many mountains. Soundless but
for a faint, occasional breeze, was all Dennis could hear. Below the lookout massed tiny lights, and
every moving vehicle and building looked miniature. It looked as if it were a small stage, and as if
they and everything in the city were small, silly, and fake. The only thing that seemed real was each
other. The night sparkled still and clear, and the stars shined. Dennis pointed out constellations as the
city undulated below.
And there, if you can see what looks like a little W Dennis pointed toward the star cluster.
I see it, Joan cuddled into him. Its so funny to think they are so far away. What is it called
again?

Cassiopeia, I think, Dennis said as he gazed with focus.

Dennis. Joan looked up at him from her perch on his shoulder. The trees were all behind them; in
front of them, nothing but city and sky.
Yes, dear? He raised a brow.
How do you know Shannon? She cupped an elbow with one hand.
Dennis paused. From work, Shannon? he replied as his body stiffened a slight bit.
Yes, Joan answered, quieter and less animated.
Well, from work, he chuckled. Do I sense a bit of jealousy?
No, noits just she seemed rude to me when I came to pick up the check. Joan pouted.
Rude? No, not Shannon. Rude how? Dennis frowned.
I dont know. But Joan shrugged indolently and looked up at him with those eyesthe eyes that
could break his heart in two and the eyes with the promise of his future. But you dont like her,
right?
My dear, I enjoy Shannon as a business partner. Shes great. But he said before stopping when
Joan jumped in.
But if she were rude to me, I mean Joans eyes tightened.
My dear, you are a bit jealous, I think. But believe me, Shannon is nothing to worry about. Joans
fragrance hung like a barely-there ghost in the air. Dennis breathed it in.
I think I love you. I mean it. Its crazy, but I love you, Joan cooed.
They smiled at each other.
Joan? Dennis leaned down to look her in the eyes.
Yes, dear?
I trust you with my heart forever.
Thank you.
I know I love you. I knew it from the moment I saw you. He moved closer.

They kissed, and the warmth of the kiss made Dennis notice the cold slowly creeping into his
jacket. Its getting late.
Youre right. Joan wrapped herself tighter in Denniss arms. But when Im with you, time
doesnt seem like a thing at all. I can see us in the future.
I know what you mean. I imagine you with me always.
I could see myself with you for a good long time, Mr. Dennis, she said, giggling. In that house of
yours you always talk about by the beach. I bet its warm there. They kissed, one holding the promise
of more yet to come.
Hmm I could see myself in you for a good long time, Miss Joan maybe at our home on the white
beaches in the Pacific. Dennis felt safe there.
Joan laughed and slapped his jacket. Well, this thing does have a backseat, doesnt it? Her leg
sidled up over his, inching her hips closer to Dennis.
Dennis grinned. Yes, my car has a backseat. Would you like to see it?
It depends.
Dennis grabbed hold of her waist as it ground slowly on his pants. Depends, does it? It doesnt
seem like it depends on much.
Tell me youll be with me forever.
Forever and a day.
Good, because I dont want to share you. Her hand moved over the growing bulge in his pants.
Or this or this Dennis laughed from surprise.
My penis? he parted his lips.
Yes, its mine. Since the first time we made love, I knew it was meant to be. You fit me perfectly.
Its like magic.
Youre magic, Joan.
They embraced then, and would only part when the sun peeked through the windows of Denniss
car. Dennis would be the first to wake up, and he spent a good half hour simply marveling in quiet
awe at the serene beauty of his sleeping passenger.
Sunday Night . . .
Ive been looking at homes. Im searching for the type of home fit for a king, with a pool, patio,

barbeque, and extra rooms for children. And the home must be perfect for my queen. Maybe Ill
get a vacation home on the white beach in the Pacific. Im not looking at the prices or the
mortgage, just the perfect nest for love birds. It has to be a place that caters to a family. We need
to enjoy it for a long time. I want a place for Joan and me to make our life happen.
A week later, Dennis dropped Joan off and got ready for work. On the main floor of the law firms
office, he pressed UP on the elevator button. As the numbers on the elevator display slowly
descended towards level M, he hummed a happy tune. He always felt good when he and Shannon had
meetings in the morning. Something about herthe calm and self-assurance, and, of course, the beauty
always made his day a better one.
Also helping his mood, yesterday he had had wild sex with the girl of his dreams in the back of his
car on the top of Point Blanke. He played back things she said to him that excited him: she loved him.
He was perfect for her. Wearing a smile, Dennis and the elevator arrived at level M.
The doors swung open, and Shannon appeared alone holding a bankers box full of papers, picture
frames, and a few baubles. They saw each other, and Shannon looked away, averting eye contact.
Now, where are you off to? Dennis asked as Shannon moved, her lithe shoulder pushing her way
past Dennis as she turned away. Um, Shannon are we still on for our 9:15 meeting? Dennis
weighed his thoughts, wondering if he had done something wrong.
She continued walking away, ignoring him. The click-clack of her black leather Italian pumps in the
main hall punctuated her anger.
Shannon! Dennis called.
Shannon turned, her thin arms straining under the load of the bankers box. Her eyes leveled. No,
you have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Not me. You.
Dennis wrinkled his brow. Whatdid they fire you?
Ha! Fire me! For what? No, you dont fire a lawyer as well versed in labor law as I am. They
wish they could fire me, she responded and laughed sarcastically. Her words were sharp.
Okay, okaytell me whats going on, Dennis raised his hands up defensively.
Well, Dennis I got transferred, her face contracted with tense lines.
What the hell is Brian thinking? I need you! Lets go back upIll talk to him. He used both arms
in a dragging motion trying to persuade her. Dennis frowned, and he stepped into the elevator, holding
it open for Shannon.
She took a few slow, click-clacking steps towards him. Oh, Dennis you dont even know how
much trouble youre in, she wrinkled her face into a fake sad expression.

What? Shannon, did Brian say something? Am I being transferred?

No, Dennis. Youre not being transferred. She looked at him with puffy eyes. Youre trapped!
What do you mean? The doors of the elevator began to close.
Ask your girlfriend. She and Dennis stood there, eyes locked. His eyes searched hers for an
explanation and hers swelled with tears.
Dennis looked at nothing on the floor, racking his mind for what she meant. What in the hell is
going on?
He went to Brians office and walked in.
Dennis, ever heard of knocking? Brian rested his feet up on the dark mahogany desk acting as the
centerpiece of his large office.
Dennis swung open the door and stood his back stiff. The city could be seen jittering about from the
south wall-sized windows letting so much light in on all the expensive furnishings around them.
Well, good, we need to talk, anyways.
Youre damn right we need to talk, Dennis raised his voice. His eyes burned from the bright sun.
Hey, now Maybe you should sit down. Brian lifted a brow.
Maybe you tell me exactly why you transferred our best labor lawyermy partnerfive days
before one of the biggest cases in our firms history. Dennis sat firmly in the chair.
I didnt know I needed to run these decisions by you, Dennis. Brian rubbed the back of his neck,
leaned forward, and took his feet off his desk. He chuckled and plopped his feet down hard. In fact,
Im sure I dont. Im the boss, remember?
This is crazy, Brian. I dont know whats going on. What did Shannon do that was so horrible?
Shes needed elsewhere. Brians eyes narrowed.
Dennis guffawed and his brows arched high. Elsewhere? Where elsewhere?
Upstate. Brian rose, turned and surveyed the undulating city below from his expansive windows.
Dennis, will you have a problem completing your tasks at this company? Are we going to have a
problem that needs solving?
You know damn well I can handle this, but thats not the point. Dennis stood up, hands on his
hips. We held a meeting with the client this morning. The multi-millionaire client who liked
Shannon; God, you know she has a reputation for this case, and its the only reason why we got this

contract! He leaned forward as if arguing a court case.

You did, Brian said.
Excuse me? Dennis took one step forward, angry that Brian was looking out the window.
Turning from the window, Brian adjusted his red silk tie. You did, I mean; you liked Shannon. Not
just her briefings. Maybe maybe her briefs, too? Brian raised his chin as if picking a fight.
Dennis paused. True, he had harbored a small work-crush on Shannon ever since she transferred.
He thought she liked him, too. However, he considered this mutual and unspoken until two years ago
at a Christmas party when Shannon kissed him full on the lips. Dennis chalked it up to her being drunk
and took her home, like a gentleman. From that point on, they forged an unbeatable legal team. Still,
though, why would Brian bring this up?
This makes no sense. Why would you give a flying fuck as to
Brians hand interrupted Dennis. Well, Dennis, it doesnt matter, anyway. The decision is final,
and youll have to find another lovely-looking lawyer to fawn over. Brian crossed his arms on his
chest.
Dennis left, slamming the door behind him. What the hell was that? Brian had never treated him
with such disrespect and with such attitude. Still fuming, he came to his desk and made an admirable
effort of trying to work like it was a normal day. Instead, he found himself lost in thought, thinking of
times with Shannon, her laugh, her smile, how she dissected issues and made brilliant observations,
and how she softly pressed the lid on the back of her pen against her temple as she wrestled with a
particularly difficult conundrum. She never let him down on a case but picked up his weak points, and
embellished them. He loved working with Shannon, and now he missed her. His power team was
broken.
Dennis left work early to settle his mind. Craving escape through a movie, he invited Joan to the
Iowa City Theater, where the 1936 film Mr. Deeds Goes to Town was screening. The story was set in
the mid-Depression, and followed an upstanding, small-town model citizen who inherits a massive
fortune. Although Joan took a half hour longer than anticipated to get ready, Dennis sped the whole
way there, and they made it with ten minutes to spare.
Ive heard good things about this movie, Joan whispered as she and Dennis settled into the
middle row of the theater. There were only a scant few others in the audience. He noted a couple off
to the back side and a single person in the front row. Dennis, still distracted by the days misgivings,
nodded quietly to Joan.
No need to whisper, dear. The previews arent on yet. Anyways, Ive always loved this show. It
taught me a lot about money.
How so?

Youll see. The main character dispenses his fortune to needy people. I always liked that. Dennis
said with a thoughtful expression.
You would do something like that?
Dear, how are your finances looking nowadays? Dennis changed the subject.
I dont know. Joan innocently shrugged.
You dont know? Well, this is something well need to sort out one of these days. He clenched
his hands in a fist.
Joan rested her head against Denniss shoulder. Ah, honey. Youre always the good Samaritan.
She straightened up in her seat and turned to him. Could you give me a lift this afternoon to
Greenbergs?
I would love to, but I should get back to work after this. I needed to clear my head, Dennis
sighed.
I was thinking
Dennis noticed when she thought to herself or appeared about to ask for a favor, her fingertips
traced along the top of his hand. He didnt mind, and he often thought of her as an investment for his
future: a beautiful wife and a caring mother.
Thinking what, dear? He held her hand.
Oh, just that, I mean, its silly, but She turned her head away.
Out with it, he said as he laughed.
I need a car, I think. She peered at him playfully. Not an expensive one, really I need an A-toB car I wouldnt be embarrassed driving.
A car? He looked at her incredulously and scratched the back of his neck.
Oh, never mind, she said, a bit too sharply to be taken lightly, causing Dennis some alarm, as he
did not want his day going from bad to worse.
No, no. I meanone day, youll need one anyway. We should work out what we can do to make
this happen. He tapped his watch. He would love to help Joan with finances; another day would be
the time.
She suddenly grinned. Really? Oh, Dennis! She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him
deeply. Before he knew it, they were making out like teenagers. A few minutes passed, and then the

lights dimmed and the previews started.

You never knowit might come in handy for me carting around our kids while youre at work.
Joan grinned.
Dennis remembered his dreams of the beach house, with the sun setting slowly on the ocean. He
could see her there, sitting in a beach chair beside him in a silk sarong and breastfeeding their baby at
sunset in the humid, clear air. The thoughts made him feel good.
After the movie, Dennis drove Joan downtown, and they decided to duck into a small coffee shop
before he went off to work.
Something happened today, he swirled a packet of sugar in his mug of coffee. They transferred
Shannon.
Oh, Joan lifted her cup with both hands. She took a long breath of the rising steam. Her eyes
fluttered and shut briefly. Good, she spoke under her breath.
Dennis stared at her, open-mouthed. Good?
Shes the one who was rude to me. Wasnt she? Thats all I mean. She reached across the table
for his hand. He loved her hands, always so soft and inviting. Im sorry, honey. Im sure it is
difficult, but theres always a silver lining.
Shes a very hard worker, and this case will be difficult without her. I also got into a fight with my
boss about it, which complicated things. He felt uneasy about finding a replacement.
I suppose when Brian makes a decision, its made, honey. She rubbed his hand soothingly.
I suppose so. Shes a great worker, still, and wait a minute. Dennis looked up from her hand
and searched her eyes. How did you know my bosss name is Brian?
Brian, honey? Oh, didnt I mention? I met him, too, when I picked up the check. I had met him
before, a long time ago.
No, you didnt mention that. Dennis cocked his head to one side.
Well, I suppose because it wasnt a big deal, but I do remember him being stubborn when he
wanted something, she pulled back.
Dennis sighed and looked down to his coffee. Exhausted, he simply wasnt ready to fight another
fight today. Yes, he certainly is. We were on such good terms until today.
Joan rubbed his shoulders soothingly. Now thats not the Dennis I know, she said encouragingly.
The Dennis I know would buck up and see the silver lining. She leaned in and tilted his head up so

their eyes met. She was still, would always be, stunning. See how lucky he is? Is the Dennis I know
in there?
Yeah, he is. Yeah. Dennis couldnt help but smile, and then he remembered Shannons last words
to him: Ask your girlfriend. He wondered how Joan knew so much. He cast it aside, though, figuring
perhaps stressed at the time, rightfully so, or maybe there was more to it, but today he would not
figure it out because exhaustion took over.
Sunday Night . . .
Ill struggle without Shannon. Thank God Joan is in my life because everything else seems to be
falling to shit. Of course, thats the sting of being yelled at by my boss and losing my favorite
coworker. My life is still great. I have my job, and I have Joan. Once I fantasized about Shannon,
how long could I expect the work mess to last? After meeting on the job, both of us kept it all
professional. Maybe its good shes gone now. She wont occupy so much of my thoughts.
Joan and I went to a movie today. It reminded me of my old college days. She gave me head
right there in the middle of a theater. I must be the luckiest man alive! At dinner, I found out she
knew Brian, and then I remembered Shannon mentioning that Joan caused her removal from the
office. Ill talk to Joan about this soon. It doesnt make sense, but my mind is too fried to work it
all out. Ill talk to Joan about it tomorrow. I wonder what Joans financial goals are. Unlike
Shannon, she seems to be lacking in that department.
Im sure everything will get sorted. For now, I love her, and well have to figure out what sort
of car we should buy. Next up is a ring. But first, sleep.
Dennis and Joan sat at her kitchen table, the overhead lamp shining bright. They sat across from
each other, sorting through a stack of papers. Outside, darkness and wind threatened a storm and
pushed against the windows every now and again. Dennis wore his gold wire-rimmed glasses on the
end of his nose, and in his hand he held a single sheet from the pile dominating the small table. There,
red ink spelled OVERDUE on the back of it. He studied it carefully. Joan looked on in worry, her
hands cupping her face.
Well? She humped her shoulder upwards.
Well, Joan. Youre in some trouble, Dennis sighed and placed the overdue bill on the tabletop.
Bad trouble? She whined like a school girl in heat.
Its not good. You have thousands in credit card debt, another bunch in bills and fees, and all those
student loans. Dennis raked one hand through his hair.
Oh, dont mention those damn things. Theyre sociopaths, the people who collect on bills and
school loans. She turned away in disgust.
Dennis took a slow breath. Dennis knew bill collectors were not sociopaths, but people who

wanted what she owed them. However, he decided to best let sleeping dogs lie and to pick his
battles. Yes, dear. These types of bills are scary, but you cant turn your head away from them. They
dont just go away. Sweat formed on his brow and a knot wrenched inside his gut. A gust of wind
sent the outside rain bombarding the window, rattling the wooden window jam.
She turned back to face him, and then she went back to studying the papers on the table. The deep
V-neckline of her playful, polka-dot jersey dress played as part of the reason why Dennis loved her in
it; it showed off so much and hid so little. The overhead light cast shadows in all the right places, but
somehow the ensemble now seemed too young for her. No denying it, she was beautiful, but Dennis
began to wonder if perhaps this hindered his judgment and other peoples judgment; perhaps people
had afforded her so much leeway her whole life that she now found herself in this financial mess.
He tried to ignore the urges bubbling up as she leaned over the pile, exposing the very edges of her
innocent white bra. Attraction was one thing, but he looked forward to marrying this woman, so he
needed to help her, even if it meant being a little harsh.
We need to talk about the car. He pushed papers aside and placed one elbow on the table.
Can we still afford it?
Dennis hemmed and hawed. He hated saying no to such a gorgeous face. It depends. Hows your
credit?
Mine? Honey, my credit is atrocious. She raised her eyebrows expectantly. But yours She
stifled a laugh and held her shoulders back and chin up.
Mine, what? He rested his head in his hands.
I thought youd help me out, she said softly with wilting eyelids.
Thats what Im trying to do. Now lets push through this. Itll feel good when its over. Dennis
rolled up his sleeves.
You know what might feel better? Her perfume drifted in the air and caught Denniss attention as
he studied another bill. He looked up, and instead saw nothing but her breasts, barely covered by the
satin bra underneath her dress. Joan leaned over. Her tightly-wound hair fell in bits around her face.
He sighed, gulping down his urges.
Soon, dear. Lets fix this one thing for you. He pointed to the bills.
Fine. She pouted and straightened up. She then crossed her arms around her waist.
You have payments to be made, he tapped a finger on the bills and letter pile.

So make them go away. I dont care for these things.

Do you keep a budget?
No, I dont, okay? I just pay, whenever I have to. I just get it paid.
Well, I dont want to upset you, but you should keep a budget. Dennis took two bills and tossed
them aside and avoided eye contact.
Thats not fair! She pushed her bottom lip out.
Dear, you owe thirty-two thousand on your cards; two cards are now cancelled Dennis looked
up again and wrung his hands together. The ticking changed into a quiet thudding in his heart.
Because of those damned collection agencies! Joan threw one hand toward the table and sneered
defensively.
No, dear. No. Because you didnt pay your bills, and theres more here. He dropped the paper
into the lot. You have a lot of work to do.
I guess I didnt get the money management genes. She teetered back and forth in a cute, girlie
way.
Dear, theyre not genes. Theyre practices, theyre habits, theyre saving, and theyre decisions we
make each and every day. He didnt want to correct her; he loved her. But his feelings continued to
swell, making him sweat.
Hey, now Joan sighed, crossing her arms over the table.
Dennis got up and walked around to her side, massaging her lithe shoulders. Dont be that way.
Dont get up in a snit.
I must be one of those women who grew up with tales of a prince charming who would come
along and fix things. Oh, where is Daddy when I need him? She let out a pathetic whine and pushed
closer to Dennis.
Yes, dear, thats a sweet story we read to young girls, he patted her back and stepped away.
But Ive found you.
Id like us to have financial equality, he felt heat flush through his body.
Together, we can pay it off. Thisll bring us together. She looked up at him, her eyes a little wet.
We can do it as a family.

Yes, Ill help you. But we need to get things in order first. Can we continue? He tucked his
sleeves up to elbows again.
Of course, honey, she nodded quietly, and Dennis walked back to his side of the table and sat.
Now, you have forty thousand owing to the student loans, he stared at a bill.
Can we stop this? Can you do what we know youll do and pay this off, and we can start over
again?
No. No, I cant do that. Thats over a hundred thousand dollars, Joan. We need to work in steps.
Dennis slapped the table as he looked up from the student loan collection agency paper, aghast and
fed up. He felt like being alone so he could think through things.
But you have money. She lifted a hand with two dainty fingers touching together.
Damn it! We need to be smart. Dennis felt fatigued, and yearned for fresh air.
I need a man to get this taken care of for me. She pointed firmly at the working pile on the table.
Thats not smart! Dennis looked away as his hair prickled up on his neck. He started to have
difficulty listening.
But thats how true love works. She put her arms under her breasts and pulled up to accentuate
them.
Look! Im angry, and I want someone who is smart. His face visibly reddened as his heart began
to race.
Smart! Joan rose from her chair, suddenly seething. Smart? Dont you want to be in love,
married, and happy? All of this is nonsense! Just pay it and lets get on with our life! Unless she
said before stopping herself, walking a few steps to the window, and staring out at the drops pitterpattering against it.
Me? Pay it and its all over?
Unless you dont want this anymore. Her threat came with a squished-ugly face.
Stop all of these theatrics. That sounds like blackmail. Dennis jumped up and turned away in a
quick move. For a moment he felt like hitting something hard.
So, youre not going to help me? She put one hand on her hip.
Are you extorting me? What the hell are you doing to me? he spat back with spittle shooting from
his lips.

I dont know what to dohelp me. Its just money! She spun around and threw her arms out,
tears flooding her eyes, and stomping her foot.
Christ! Im more than a worker drone! His stomach fell; it fell as if it had been pushed off the
Krubera Cave without a safety line. Stop this now what about your education?
She spun back around to view the inky blackness of the outside world through the window. My
business degree? She scoffed.
You dont want to work in business?
No!
Then why did you go to the university for Denniss hands trembled. He didnt want to know the
answer, but he did. His vision clouded.
Why! Why, why, why! Why, with this! Why, with that! Joan cut him off before ending the
question. She spun again once more, but this time she headed towards him. Because men want
women who have a degree!
As she advanced, Dennis backed away, and soon they moved through the hallway.
You cant really think Id pay for He had tunnel vision, anger stirred inside as his ears
pounded.
A real man would!
What? Denniss heart stopped cold.
Yes, we want a man a real man, not one that will turn his back on us. Are you going to turn your
back on me? Her face looked unattractive for the first time.
A man
She cut him off by throwing a small vase to the floor, crashing it in pieces.
And in that moment, in her hysteria, Dennis noticed something. Here was the body of the woman he
wanted to marry, but where was the mind? Where was the kind and gentle soul, sometimes
mischievous, who wanted to be with him forever?
Crushed, his heart battered high speed; Dennis continued moving away from her. He took note of
her cleavage, exposed as she flailed in front of him, and he felt an urgebut not one to make love.
Rather, to just take her . . . that Neanderthal urge of putting a wild woman in her place. It was a
purely automatic, physical response.

Help me! she screeched.

Youre like this, Joan, because you get your hair and nails done each week, you spend thousands
on useless products, and youre in debt because you waste money on clothes and jewelry! Just what
the fuck is wrong with you? Dennis cracked his neck from side to side. He needed release and was
angry.
You have no right to talk at me this way! she yelled, and pointed a crooked finger at his face.
Have you been conning me like a street hustler?
How dare you! For that crack Im never returning the gold necklace.
There settled quietness, the type usually reserved before the gunshots of a firing squad. The two
looked at each other, assessing and reevaluating. Joan saw Dennis as a manas a terribly obstinate
man, as a man who was one of these modern ones, and as one who wouldnt be her meal ticket. He
had her number. The love fell from her now-squashed face. Hot putrid soup stewed inside his gut.
Brian was right about you, Joan snipped. Youre not in my league at all. I shouldnt be wasting
my time on you.
Excuse me? Dennis squinted and his veins pounded in his temples.
Brian fucked me! Her hands traced along the V-neck of her dress. And it was great, too. Hes a
very handsome man.
What the fuck? Denniss face went blank. God, how he wanted to vomit and felt more enraged
but more powerfulwith every word.
You cheated on me? His heart stopped dead. He felt every muscle weaken as the white beach
home in the Pacific, wife, children, and future all faded away.
Thats right. Shannon leaving was his big payoff for some great sex, right in the chair you probably
sat in as you argued with him! She threw her head back and laughed.
Jesus, I never thought youd be so evil! Dennis turned to walk away while his heart collapsed bit
by bit. Looking over his shoulder, he opened the door. It was his doorway to a new life without his
love, without his wife, and without the visitor at his retirement beach house.
By the way, youre nothing in bed just a piece of shit with a pock-marked face that only a dog
could love.
Fuck you bitch youll never see me again! Dennis yelled.

He walked through the door, slammed it shut, and ran to his car. He spun the wheels and raced off
into the street. In the rearview mirror, through rain spattered windows, he peered through teary eyes
to see her standing in the middle of the road, her polka-dot dress hanging loose over her beautiful
frame. He kept driving.
Saturday Night . . .
Ive never felt more worthless! My chests been torn apart by a cannonball-sized wound. Every
part of my heart aches; its broken. I only leave the bed to take a shit and eat. Im lost and dont
know why Im alive. Nothing is worth a fuck. I hate myself for being a fucking fool. The dream
life is shattered, so all I can do is nurse this emptiness. Is this how it ends?

His grief overwhelmed him. Heartbroken and alone in the dark, Dennis made a stab at freedom and
release from the pain; he gathered his diary notes, sat in a quiet room, and ever so slowly he wrote.
Damn! Ill never forget this night. He rubbed his arms then placed them both on the steering
wheel as he looked around.
Why is that? She asked.
Well, its because Im here with you. He pressed a palm to his heart.
Youre sweet, which makes my new job search easier to manage. She waved her hand in
dismissal.
Every night, an ardent story unraveled word by word about a deep love gone awry. Over a year,
like therapy, the story washed the pain clean, exorcising the demons gnawing deep inside. He let the
words go. He penned a love story, an honest story, one describing how love confused a man. A story
showing how love fought against logic and hijacked a mans very being. A love story about an
emotion so powerful it ruined the man he once knew, turning him into something he no longer
recognized. Dennis penned an intense story of passion and survival. It was his story.
After it was published, the novel gained popularity, and he crafted the novel into a screenplay. He
completed it last month and sold it to a producer in Los Angeles. His old self has been rejuvenated
into a new, wiser man. True insight always comes with great pain.

Today
Denniss bank account is growing along with his esteem.
He recently bought a condominium in the Los Angeles area, and he plays the pipe organ at the
classical movie theater, El Capitan Theater, on Hollywood Boulevard, where he feels utterly at ease.
Shannon called and said she is returning. Dennis swears never to allow the type of stress Joan
brought into his world again.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Men: Chivalry is dead; it is an old fairy tale now.cxxvcxxvi
Men: Avoid women who must purchase things all the time.cxxvii
Men: Avoid women who have a large amount of debt.cxxviii cxxix
Men: Its natural for men to be attracted to women.cxxx
Men: It is natural for men to act on sex when its offered to them.
Many women go to college and then do not use their education.cxxxi
Most women go to enormous lengths to eliminate female competition.
Men: Avoid women who cant manage their personal finances.cxxxii
Men: Avoid women who hide their financial situation. cxxxiii
Men: Avoid women who shop all the time.cxxxiv
Men: Married couples arguments over money often predict divorce.cxxxv
Men: If she bickers, there is nothing you can do to change that.

Chapter 7
Facebook Secrets
Allen Dobson resembled a more muscular version of Justin Bieber crossed with the smoothness of
Justin Timberlake; his manly picture on Facebook was often mistaken for Justin Timberlake, even.
The difference, according to his ex-girlfriend, Felicia, was that Allen had actually caught his dad,
who was a professor, whacking off on the living room couch.
Such notoriety spread among the senior population at Pittsburgh High like wildfire, for if Allen,
just eighteen years old, would admit such a discovery to a girl, then hed be the hottest guy since God
knows when. These tags elevated young men in the impressionable minds of hormone-gushing young
women, and if Allen wasnt aware of his impact, so much the better.
The nifty thing about the situation was that Allens father worked side by side with Staceys father.
The two Carnegie Mellon University professors labored under a well-endowed grant from the
National Science Foundation. The two debated in terms of understanding and modifying human
genomes, in addition to social trends, albeit in far more complexity than Stacey and her best friend
Gail were prepared to understand more about life on their path towards graduation.
Fuck that shit, said Stacey, a pretty blonde who was commonly acknowledged as the prettiest girl
in the school. She had always attracted the boys. I want Allen. I promise you, Gail, Ill get him to
fuck me by graduation. Im leaving High School with a bang.
You mean Allen Dobson? Hes Felecias ex-boyfriend, and you know the rules: step-fathers and
ex-boyfriends are off limits. You know thats a huge no-no, girl! Gail shook her finger at Stacey, who
did her best hair-flick, tossing her long blonde strands as if the paparazzi were taking photos.
Stacey smiled mischievously; she knew if she could, she would and she could. Of that, she
remained confident because of her secret weapon: The Catholic school uniform. Her school wasnt a
Catholic school, but Stacey had long before discovered that the girlie school uniform, when worn on
her eighteen year old fine frame, fascinated the guys.
Stacey owned several Catholic girl outfits tailored to fit her snugly. They showed off her sprightly
curves and drove the men crazy. She wanted the boys dicks hard for her. The school halls and
classrooms served as her catwalk where she displayed her offerings, wearing knee-high white socks
and a plaid skirt folded at the belt so the hem lingered mid-thigh, instead of below the knees as
stipulated by school regulations. The white shirt was always unbuttoned low enough to reveal her
lacey bra. This is the ammunition she used to get what she wanted, when she wanted, and with whom
she wanted. She liked looking virginal while putting out whenever she could, like a nymphomaniac.

The uninhibited eighteen-year olds, Stacey Grey and Gail Bashford, assembled on the bed in
Staceys room for their regular after school chit chat, snickering about the other senior kids at school
and acting like immature teens for the last time in their life. Both lived in the Oakmont suburb of
Pittsburgh, nicknamed One Square Mile of Happiness by the local folk.
The population of their quaint little suburb numbered a mere 6,303 rich folks. However, after
turning eighteen they persuaded their parents to let them attend the larger school in Pittsburgh proper,
where boy-stalking opportunities were greater.
In their aloof, shadowy world of academia, Allens father, Dr. Robert Dobson, and Staceys father,
Dr. Michael Grey, deliberated the motives of why men are determined to pass their sperm on to as
many women as possible and why women instinctively need to bear children.
The next conversation covered the incidence of male pseudo-hermaphroditism, estimated to affect
between 3 and 15 individuals per 100,000 men. The incidence of female pseudo-hermaphroditism has
been estimated to affect between 1 and 8 individuals per 100,000 women. In a joint paper, they
concluded more research is needed.

In the confines of her bedroom, Stacey told Gail, a bit chubby yet constantly critical of skinny
Stacey, I cant help it. I gotta wrap my legs around this guy. Right now, hes free from that Felicia,
the biggest fuck-tard in town. I know she wants him back, but Ill have the imprint of his ears on my
inner thighs before she knows what hit herknow what I mean?
Gail always knew what she meant because she always meant the same thing. Stacey rested her chin
on the palm of her hand while hovering over the pictures on the computer screen. She had no doubt
she could catch unsuspecting Allen.
That cow Felecia has no thigh gap. When she walks, her thighs rub together, Gail cracked,
kicking her legs over her head, one after the other, That bitch is fatter than me. Shes gonna start a
damn fire with them fat ass thighs of hers. If she ever wears corduroy, you better run for the
extinguisher.
Stacey scrunched her face and felt her stomach turn at the thought of those huge thighs. If I had
those thighs, Id like totally kill myself, she snapped, leaning closer to the screen. Allens like
totally hot. Im talking rocking hot. You know what Im saying? The two of us might have to fight over
my beefcake. Stacey lifted her clenched fists in the air, boxing style.
O-M-G! Youre such a skank, Gail howled as she gazed over Staceys shoulder and pointed at
Allens photo on the laptop while licking her lips.
Stacey moved her chin off her palm and gave Gail the stink eye. I know you didnt call me a slut,
did you girl?

Hey babe, pick your own word. If you dont like skank, then try slut, hoe, tramp, prostitute, hooker,
nasty, or maybe dirty, Gail arched her brows.
We graduate in a month and Ive got my eye on him, so back off! Stacey warned pointing a
menacing finger toward Gails round face.
Whoever said hed want your skinny ass? Gail teased, looking at Stacey with sparkling eyes. I
heard some boys like us chubby girls because we try harder to please em.
Listen, ya little ho, you keep your hands off my man meat, ya hear? Stacey stared directly at Gail.
Gail grew red in the face. Listen Stacey, Ill kick your ass into next week. Youre nothing but a
bully in a skirt! Gail raised her chin.
Try me, slut. Ill wipe the floor with your sorry ass. Got it? Stacey screamed back, moving her
head side to side to add emphasis to her threat. She lunged and pounced, wrestling Gail to the floor,
where the two scrapped and yelled like they were the farthest things from friends.
Did I stutter? I aint scared of you. Gail raised a fist ready to slug it out, still teasing Stacey. Just
watch and see. You wanna piece of me? What are you waiting for?
Leave im to me or Im opening an industrial size can of whoop-ass on you! Stacey grabbed a
fistful of Gails brown hair.
Ouch! Okay, psycho-bitch, youre a bad ass popular girl, but Im your best friend, remember?
Gail jumped beyond Staceys reach.
Just back off. Stacey held a hand-stop sign, arm extended, as she rose from the floor.
O.K. O.K. Fall back, Stace! Youre messin up my hair over this fucking dude, Gail patted her
hair while looking in her compact mirror.
I got no beef with you as long as ya stay away from my man, but if you dont Stacey pointed a
finger and cocked an imaginary pistol.
Shit, keep him. Hes all yours. Im busy planning my graduation party. Gail tossed her hair.
Stacey sat down, still agitated. Gail was accustomed to her friends outbursts; she knew she blew
like a volcano, erupting at the drop of a hat if something stood in her way. However, she quickly
regained her equanimity.
How can I help? Gail leaned her chin on one hand.

A few miles away in Carnegie Mellon, Allens father proofread the email Staceys father had sent
him from his office down the hall.
The potential to duplicate and compound the interactive misunderstandings between men and
women is bothersome. Look at adults with anxiety and depression. Some adult males have a history
of being transvestites. Associated personality disorders are more common among males than
among females who are currently being evaluated at adult gender clinics.
Dr. Robert Dobson replied to Dr. Michael Grey.
Yes, I think youre onto something. Lets get a drink and discuss.

Just remember, I want him. If you interfere, Ill tell everyone you shit in your bed, and Im not
kidding. Stacey waved her finger at Gail.
Yes yer Highness. I will do as you say, Princess Staceeeey, Gail curtsied.
Look at how hes built. Hes very sexy, Stacey swooned. Her interest in boys bodies made her
try to picture what lay under Allens tight jeans.
Youre such a cock-hungry slut, laughed Gail.
Hold on. Stacey held her forefinger right up in the air. I gotta think here.
The room went quiet. I think I have an idea, Stacey suddenly popped, tapping her lip with one
finger.
What is it?! Gails eyes widened. As her longtime best friend, Gail knew that when Stacey did
that gesture, it was a sure sign some interesting stuff percolated.
Hmmm what iiiiifff Stacey thought, biting teasingly on her lips. She paused for effect,
knowing Gail liked this type of game, and she enjoyed having her friend squirm on the edge of her
seat waiting for her stroke of genius.
What?!
Ill write him on Facebook and tell him what Im feeling. Will that get him? Staceys eyebrows
arched.
Gail scratched her head as if thinking hard. After a moment, her eyes abruptly lit up: Thats one
way to go, but she pondered.
Stacey grilled her, But what?

. . . I got something better. Gail propped herself up on her seat.

Shoot! Whatcha got? prodded Stacey.
I think you should create another Facebook account and invent some cute guy, then post on Allens
wall and tell him to keep his dirty paws off you, Gail responded with a know-it-all smile on her
face, typing in the air as if on an invisible keyboard, Hell get all curious-like and think youre in
demand and shit. You know if you tell someone they cant have something, and then they gotta have
it.
Stacey snapped her finger in the air three times in the shape of a Z to punctuate her statement:
Just Like That Perfect! Youre a crafty bitch! I love it!
I know, right? Im brilliant, Gail bowed her head in a false gesture of modesty.
Yeah, you are! Its because we spend so much time together my genius is rubbing off on you. They
high-fived, putting an official stamp of approval on their evil plan.
Good, lets get this catfish operation into gear hook, line, and sinker! This is going to be so
cool. Hell never know. Oh my God, theres so much to do, she rubbed her hands together
menacingly.
Stacey signed into a Facebook page and created a new profile. So what now? Stacey waited
for Gail to call the shots.
You could get the imaginary guy to write you a message, Gail looked pleased with her devious
plan.
Im doing it. Ill give him a cool name like Evan, Evan Strauss. Sounds sexy, yeah? Stacey
tapped a finger on her chin while waiting for Gails approval.
Yeah, I like that. Put him in Jackson Junior College.
Men are so easy because theyre weak, declared Stacey, puckering her lips like a little child with
a teasing voice, just smile or wink and theyre yours to play with. They cant resist pussy. Just
wiggle your ass and they come around sniffing like dogs seeking a bitch in heat; sometimes its too
easy.
Tell me about it! scoffed Gail.
If they catch a scent of nookie, theyll be all over your ass like bees on honey.
Like bees on honey, or in your case, like flies on shit, Gail said. You know, when I used to laugh
at my dads jokes, hed buy me anything. She made a haha huffing sound with a wicked smile.

Haha! Even the old fuckers cant turn down hot, young snatch. Stacey flipped through the screens,
typing here and there.
Especially the older guys! Gail chimed in. You should see the looks I get from some of the
teachers! Theyre nothin but old pervs, and, if given the chance, theres not one who wouldnt kick
his wife curbside to get a ride on some fresh ass. She forced a laugh before continuing, Id wink
and tilt my head at my dad and get my way every damn time else, Id throw a big-ass hissy fit and
cry.
Yeah, me too, when my dad sees me cry, its like Im on fire, and he has to extinguish me with
buckets of money instead of water. I could always win the fights with my little brother with a good
cry cause I acted wounded and brokenhearted, Stacey bragged, my brother never got the best of me
once after I learned that. For a moment, her voice drifted into a vague, yet serious, almost lonely
tone.
Stacey then shifted back into high gear. Check out these photos and all these fly dudes! She
motioned to Gail. They sifted through a Google search, uttering seductive remarks as they perused the
mark.
Yes, I like, Gail snickered, hey, find one in swim trunks. Find one showing his big package.
I love me a fat dick better than a long one! groaned Stacey.
Gail doubled over with laughter, You sound like the last ho in Pittsburgh!
Eat my pussy!
Im just saying, Gail cracked back.
Together, they created mature college man Evan Strauss on Facebook. With the help of Photoshop,
they gave Evan a tight, stud-like body with six-pack abs and a face borrowed from an obscure
Romanian movie actor. They used social media to spread fake photo-shopped images around to their
school peers.
Gail created the death-defying email sent to Allen and backed it with a scrawl on Allens Facebook
wall.
Dude, you twerp, if I ever catch you even looking at, much less talking with, Stacey Grey,
theyll find your mangled body under the yellow iron bridge that goes over Fort Duquesne
where the Allegheny joins the Monongahela. Even if she does give the best blow jobs, stay
away!
Stacey and Gail giggled until Gail crossed her legs so she wouldnt piss herself. The blowjob
comment is sick, Stacey. I worry about you sometimes. You can be such a skank, Gail slammed her,

trying to speak clearly without laughing.

This is making me want his cock. Im getting wet.
Yous a whore, girl, Gail chided, thats a fact.
Stacey then found her own Facebook page and posted a message on her wall from Mister Six-Pack,
Evan, Hi, I think youre really pretty. Are you available? Whats up?
Thats so cool wonder what Allen will think? Tomorrow at lunch lets sit near him see if he
notices and looks at you. I bought a new push-up bra. Ill let you borrow it, Gail said and their vile
plan was officially underway.
Haha, its my time to shine. Look out world coz Staceys about to get some tail, she leaned back
in the chair and placing her hands on the back of her head, and dont you dare tell anyone about this.
Its our secret, Gail promised.
The next day Stacey and Gail tittered on the way to the cafeteria, where Allen sat with a group of
friends. The girls walked past the table of math geeks with their big, black rimmed glasses. Some of
the math geeks had their heads down and engrossed in books, while others debated the validity of
some scribbled equation on a piece of paper. As far as Stacey was concerned, it was a bunch of
numbers, letters, and mysterious signs.
Such losersI cant wait to get away to college, Stacey mumbled to Gail as they passed.
Then, they hit the Glee Club table, with people playing air guitars and other invisible
instruments. Finally, they passed the jocks strutting around and bopping one another on the head.
Spitballs flew from plastic straws. They high-fived, fist-bumped, and chest-slammed while uttering
cryptic exclamations like Steak sauce! and Slam dunk! and Touchdown!
Stacey recognized the friends at Allens table as the same friends shed seen him with all year; all
three of them seemed a little odd. They were like the loners, except for one in red hair.
Stacey and Gail sat at the adjoining table so they could eavesdrop over what the guys were saying.
The three boys shared their table with a quiet, shy looking girl.
This losers got to go, Stacey murmured, nodding toward the reserved girl.
Stacey sat down beside her and wrapped her arm around the girls shoulders as if they were best
friends. She situated her lips close to the girls ear and whispered, You dont want to mess with us,
loser. I want you to get your fat ass out of this seat and find some other place to sit your loser face. At
the count of three, I want you to disappear, bitch, Stacey growled with a low voice.
One Gail began counting.

Two Stacey joined in, slowly removing her arm.

Before they got to three, the frightened girl bolted away from them with her head down.
See yah round, girl and so nice meeting you, Stacey waved her hand at the poor girl as if theyd
had a pleasant conversation.
So nice, Gail said. Retarded spaz, she added in a whisper.
Stacey and Gail pushed the table close to Allens, then listened to one of Allens friends talk about
a TV show hed watched the night before. The others chuckled and quoted one-liners from the show,
but then the conversation turned to the upcoming Pirates baseball game on Saturday.
Anyone heard of someone named Evan Strauss at Jackson Junior College? Allen looked for
acknowledgements.
No one answered, but the redheaded boy with freckles and red hair said, No.
Just wondering, Allen said.
I hear the Pirates have a community center where we can go and play with other guys our age, the
redhead said.
I heard about that place. It sounds cool, Stacey interjected with thin slits for eyelids, I think it
would be fun to go there.
Huh? asked Allen quizzically, looking at Stacey with a blank face.
Girls watch sports too, you know! Stacey tossed her hair while she winked at him seductively.
Thats funny, Allen chuckled. Are girls welcome?
Yeah, they actually are. I heard the whole project is coed. Its supposed to promote sports, the
freckled redhead said. Hey, my names Murphy, and by the way, sup with you dime pieces? He
moved his eyes toward Stacey and then gazed at her breasts like an animal hunting down prey for
dinner. Yous a looking good, he volunteered with a nod.
Sup, Murphy, my names Gail, she chimed in, tapping her fingertips together under her chin.
Were going to the mall tonight. Wanna tag along? We dont mind.
Stacey thought the mall idea was brilliant.
Id go along with you guys, but tonight Im taking my girl to buy things for graduation, Murphy
explained, maybe some other time? He sat seductively with an open body position as only a guy
would do, his belly tucked in and his chest inflated.

Whos your girl? Gail bit her lower lip, shamelessly flirtatious.
Her name is Melinda Jonson. I think she knows you guys. You know her? Murphy asked.
Sure, Melinda, I know dat bitch, Gail laughed.
Haha, Murphy giggled.
Everyone knows us. Gail pulled her shoulders together to accent her cleavage.
They been going together for about two years and thinking of marriage soon, Allen pumped up his
chest, basking in the reflected glory of his friends ability to have a serious woman.
Two of the friends elbowed each other, intimating they knew their friend Murphy probably got some
good sex with Melinda.
Must be serious. Gail softened her voice.
Im sure is it that serious? Stacey cooed like a dove in the spring.
Well, um I guess so, Murphy answered in a whisper. Anyway you girls can come to the
Pirates Center too. Let me know if you wanna go, Id love to go with you.
Okay, Stacey gave Allen a sexy look.
Allen turned red. Uh, okay.
Im pretty small, so I think I can play third base, Stacey said demurely while gesturing to her
body. Allen didnt notice the overtures.
I could be the catcher, Murphy tried to keep himself in the conversation.
Allen, youre a big guy. You could probably be the pitcher, Stacey attempted to boost his ego.
Allen relaxed and smiled. Oh, thanks. Actually, Ive played some ball, he admitted while his
cheeks reddened.
Youre so handsome. Youll be the star of your team, Stacey provocatively waved a finger at him.
Allen swallowed hard. Nah, was all he could muster.
Hey Allen, whats shaking dude? Gail asked in her friendliest tone.
Allen looked in her direction and responded, Its all good, Wassup with you?

Are you here with your car? Gail asked with a big smile.
Yeah, but whats it to ya? Allen eyed Gail suspiciously.
Would you be a lamb and drop us at the mall after school? Weve got things to do places to go
and people to see were very busy, Gail placed on fresh lip stick.
I dont think I can, Allen disengaged eye contact.
Its no use, Gail; well never get there on time. I dont know what Im gonna do. This is awful,
Stacey moaned as she began pouting, managing to fake a tear.
Ive got my car, but Im pretty busy right now, so I dont know, Allen insisted.
Oh no, I cant believe this, Stacey looked down with one finger rubbing under her eye lid.
Whatre you sad about? Allen asked with concern.
Stacey convincingly tried to hide her fake pain. My mothers really sick, and Im supposed to pick
up her prescription from the pharmacy, but itll be closed by the time I get there. If only no, youre
too busy. I understand. I cant ask you to go out of your way. Another crocodile tear fell from her
eye.
Are you crying? Murphy asked like a knight in shining armor in the presence of a damsel in
distress.
I love my mother so much, you know, Staceys voice cracked as she turned on the full water
works.
Stacey shook her head and continued, My mom slipped into depression when my dad left us for
some whore. She hasnt been the same since that day. Im taking care of her the best I can, but a
daughter can only do so much. She lied flawlessly, a testament to the dedication she had exhibited to
her art.
Murphy cleared his throat. He was moved to tears by Staceys tragedy. Im so sorry to hear about
your mother.
Allen looked down for a long moment, deep in thought. He finally raised his head and offered his
assistance, Well, I guess I can get you to the mall, so you can go to the pharmacy right after school,
but itll have to be quick. Ive tons of stuff to do.
Oh, thank you so much, Stacey beamed appreciation. Her little act had worked its charm.
Ill come with, Gail said.

Allen mumbled an okay toward Gail.

Thanks again! You dont know how much this means to me, Stacey confided with her most
inviting smile.
The bell rang for the start of the next class.
I got to get to class see you guys after school, Allen rose from the table.
Stacey walked toward Allen as the other students scattered, heading for classes. You really saved
my life, Allen. Ill make sure and make it worth your while. Stacey placed a hand on his arm and
rubbed.
No problem, Allen kept walking.
Listen, you want to go to the Lakeside parking area Friday? Stacey pounced with a beaming
smile.
Allen answered in partial shock, Uh, I dont think so.
Whats the matter?
Nothing, Allen looked away from Stacey. He seemed more interested in the floor.
Youre not gay or anything, are you? Staceys face frowned.
No! his eyes snapped back at her, jumping on her accusations as if on auto pilot, I dont dig
dudes. I like girls a lot Im not a I mean, Im straight, totally!
Theres nothing wrong with that if you do dig dudes. Stacey said, knowing to challenge a man
with the possibility of being gay struck fear in his heart.
Well, Im not, Allen stared at the floor and kept walking.
Then, whats wrong? Stacey kept pace following next to him.
Nothing
Okay, remember, Im there for you, Stacey encouraged with a seductive wave. She made the
shape of a phone with her thumb and pinky and mouthed the words, Call me.

Im not sure about Allen, said Stacey after he had dropped her and Gail off at the mall. Allen had

been quiet and non-talkative all the way. Stacey couldnt figure it out. Normally a guy would jump
head first if I asked him to go park somewhere. I mean, what I said is short of saying fuck me.
Thats as explicit as it gets, no? But Allen reacted as if I tried to sell him a Readers Digest
subscription! Stacey pushed her hair out of her face and rubbed her chin, He said he had more
important things on his mind.
I wonder what those important things are. Gail thought out loud. He did act a bit strange.

Dr. Dobson sat at the computer in his office, dictating research results for another email to Dr.
Grey.
I came across some additional information you might find interesting. According to one longterm study called Adolescent Male Sexuality and Associative Reproductive Dysfunction, the
number of young men in general suffering from some form of ARD is significantly higher than
initially reported, with males representing an appreciably higher percentage of those experiencing
difficulty with what is considered normal sexual behavior. This evidence could bolster our
conclusion regarding the effect of intrinsic sexual inclination being a compelling factor on male
sexual ambiguity.

That Friday, after much plotting on Staceys part, Stacey and Allen did hook up at the Lakeside
parking area. They kissed and groped one another, and attempted to fuck, but Allens dick went limp
while still inside her. Heavy silence filled the car.
Stacey finally interrupted the quiet, Whats wrong? Her disappointment felt palpable.
I I dont know. Allen blushed.
Are you some kind of zombie? She asked.
Oh, God, just thinking about graduation I guess. Allen muttered into his own hands. He wanted to
hide.
I am too. Just take me home, she demanded as her blood pressure rose inside her veins and head,
she was determined never to speak to Allen again.
The following week Stacey came up late starting her period. It scared the Bejesus out of her, so she
caught up with Allen at school.
Hey, we need to talk! Stacey told Allen in the hallway.
Sure, Allen avoided direct eye contact.

She grabbed his arm firmly and made him look at her. Look, dude, Im late, so I think I might be
pregnant. I also think it might be your kid, Stacey uttered with panic in her voice.
Hell, no! It cant be mine we didnt even finish, you know that, Stacey. His back stiffened.
Time to grow up! Havent you heard of pre-cum, you doofus? Her mouth flapped.
Obviously, Im not as schooled in the science of fucking as you, Allen blurted. The way I hear
it, theres no chance Im the only guy youve fucked this month. He looked around in a circle as if
there was an exit hole he could run through.
Too bad for you, but yes, you are the only one! I know its yours, mother fucker! Stacey pushed a
finger into Allens chest.
What about that Evan Strauss college guy? he smirked. Are you seeing him?
I dont think so, she lied. Stacey didnt want Allen knowing Evan was a figment of her
imagination. Shed rather die than admit she had played him all along.
I checked him out. He aint real. Are you catfishing me? Allen pointed a finger toward her with a
threatening face.
Hell, no!
I dont believe you and I dont trust you, he moved his head back and forth.
Fuck you!
Yeah, Jesus, were just turned eighteen! What the hell? This is so fucked up! Allens brow
wrinkled.
Still, you need to step up and act like a father! Stacey put her face in front of Allens.
I need proof its mine. Im not lifting a finger until you have a DNA test proving Im the father,
Allen waved a dismissive hand.
Its yours. I know damn well its yours, she swatted a backhand in the air.
If it is mine, then you should get rid of it. You tricked me, and it was an accident your accident,
he moved back a foot and put a hand up.
An accident? What happened, you tripped and fell dick first into me? As far as tricking you
youre a piece of work, you know that? she grit her teeth bulging her jaw muscles.
I didnt want to fuck you. You forced me into everything with your stupid games. I want you to

have an abortion, and I want it now! Allens words caught in his throat.
You want an abortion? Get one! Stacey screamed. Have them scrape your uterus you useless
piece of shit! Youre such a serious pussy you know that? Nobody screws me over and gets away
with it! Why dont you man up and face this thing?
I cant, Allen gazed downward and his eye muscles sagged.
What the fuck? Stacey pushed his chest.
You dont know Allen stumbled back a step.
I dont know what?
I cant say
Say what? She pushed her face near his.
Allen turned pale, I think Im Im gay! His stomach dropped into darkness.
I knew it! A fag, a queer, and a pillow biter I knew you batted for the boys team. Its the only
explanation for not wanting this! She ran her hands up and down her body.
Allen gripped Staceys shoulders and pleaded, Please, dont tell anyone about what I just said.
Its my deepest secret! If word gets out, I swear Stacey, Id die of embarrassment. And dont ever call
me a fag, Im beggin you! His hands went clammy, and he fought to hold back tears.
Okay, fag, Ill only tell my dad, Stacey swore.
God, no hell tell my dad! Allens heart raced as blood rushed through his body making him
tremble.
So, what? Stacey crossed her arms.
Wait, didnt you say you think youre pregnant? Allen asked guardedly, You dont know for sure,
right? His heart pounded with every word, thinking how fucked up life would be if she had his kid.
Yeah, numb-nuts, but I missed my period. That doesnt usually happen to me. Im very regular
when its time for Aunt Flo. Im like clockwork, she rolled her eyes.
Okay, lets get a pregnancy test from Walgreens. That way, youll know for sure, he proposed.
His mind searched for a way to make the nightmare disappear.
Fine, but I know I am, Stacey affirmed with a firm jaw.

The two raced to the school parking lot and drove to the nearest drug store. Allen had a hard time
concentrating on his driving while thinking about how he would explain the situation to his dad.
Once in the pharmacy, his hands shook as they picked out the cheapest brand of pee-stick spare
change could buy. They walked out of the store and sped as fast as they could to the nearest
McDonalds.
Stacey emerged from the womens restroom a few minutes later with a deadpan look on her face.
This might be your lucky day, mother fucker! She held up the stick that indicated she was not
pregnant.
Allen exhaled a long breathe. Thank God!
Asshole, Stacey said.
Stacey please dont say anything, Allens backbone bowed forward. Ill do anything if you
promise not to blab about this. He imagined schoolmates taunting him everywhere.
So, your dad doesnt know?
God, our dads work together. It would kill my dad if he knew, nauseous food stewed in his gut.
Thats too bad, you fucking gay-geek. Im telling them everything. In fact, I plan on spreading this
news like wildfire all over this fucking town and maybe across the state, she did a tip-toe dance.
Please, anything but that. I dont want my dad unhappy; hell be so disappointed in me, Allens
arms hung limp at his sides.
Oh, boo-hoo do you think I care?
You cant tell anyone at school either, he told her. Please, we graduate in weeks, keep this
quiet.
He could well envision the future if his sexual preferences went public. Everyone would ridicule
him. They might even threaten him with a knife like they did to the kid in trigonometry class. He knew
friends would turn their backs.
Now, why would I do that, she laughed.
Seriously, Stacey, you know theyll call me names! Allen cringed. He could already hear the
taunts, Hey faggot . . . cock sucker . . . eat this, you queer.
Theyll fag bash your girly ass! Stacey laughed.

God no I cant, he mumbled, almost in a whisper. Thoughts ran through his mind with images
of bullies beating him and making fun. How could this girl be so mean?
Hey, youre a strong girl, Stacey jeered, suck it up.
Allen held two limp shaking arms toward Stacey. Theyll beat me up like they did to that skinny
kid in trigonometry class.
Fags get bashed and beat up all the time. Youll get used to it. In fact, Im sure you disgusting
pervs enjoy a good beating, Stacey smirked. It turns em on!
Please, Stacey, tears filled his eyes.
Hell, no! Fag gossip is the best kind of gossip, she twirled on one toe.
Please, let me put in the end of the year before anyone finds out, Allen touched her shoulder
softly. Every muscle in his body trembled.
Now, you sound like such a queer. Im telling everyone, Stacey brushed his hand away with a
flick.
Please Stacey, No, Im begging you, he clutched his arms to his chest and feeling his fingers turn
cold.
Look at what a fag you are! Stacey threw her hair over her shoulders and walked away.
My life is ruined! Allen thought. He felt like crying some more and screaming at the same time. His
shoulders rounded in total defeat. He wondered how he could hide or become invisible. He thought of
suicide, but reasoned the worst bullies at school would probably kill him anyway. They would bash
him to a pulp. They would destroy him.

Stacey made good on her threat, spending hours on Facebook and her iPhone spreading her vitriol.
The next day, the news of Allen being gay, including his erection problem, spread across the school
like fire in a hay field. She sent an anonymous letter to Allens dad, outing him as being gay,
preventing him from telling his dad himself.
The reaction to the news produced the exact opposite effect of what Allen and Stacey had expected.
Staceys Facebook campaign backfired. Instead, many classmates defended Allen, congratulating him
on coming out and being courageous.
Students smiled at him while whispering the gossip of last night.
Allens gut sprung like a slinky coil. His tension slowly disappeared. Some of Allens friends were

so inspired by his coming out, they announced, Allen, Im gay too. People filled him with the
kind of hope he had never experienced. Allen flew higher than he had ever flown after diving so low.
The depths of his despair transformed into hope as the vision of new horizon he could see with a
promising graduation.
The biggest rumor of the day was that Stacey became the laughingstock of the school for being so
unattractive she couldnt keep a mans dick hard.

Today
With his fathers full support, Allen joined the army one year after all the graduation festivities. The
army turned out to be the best decision of his life. With his life pointed in a career direction, he
became successful in the armed forces and loved every minute of it. While courageously serving his
country in Afghanistan, Allen decided to make military life his vocation.
Over time, Allen became comfortable being gay, and never felt the necessity to rescue a woman in
any way; empowering Allen to concentrate on lifes other interests.
Relationships with other men seemed easier than what he saw his straight friends experience with
jealous females, most of whose interests in marriage, kids, and becoming homemakers made women
seem like critically needy creatures. It appeared all aspects of the male and female connection
demanded that men do all they could to meet womens ideal standards, to push men into giving their
money and souls, only to end up married and empty.
What a neurotic way to live, thought Allen over and over again.
With a strong army career, Allen now envisions finding a man and building a home together. He
hopes to have a marriage based on his standards, not on societys traditional ideals. He understands
same-sex couples can raise children, and is grateful for the trailblazers who promoted marriage
equality who have stood before him, who fought against staggering odds and all who helped change
public mores and acceptance. They are the heroes who provided a healthy prospect for Allen and his
future partner. With wholesome future options at his disposal, Allen plans to do everything possible
to remember and honor those earlier activism efforts.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Most females tend to be nasty bullies and meaner online than males. cxxxvi
Most girls learn how to manipulate men in their early childhood.cxxxvii cxxxviii
Many women use crying to blackmail and manipulate men.cxxxix cxl cxli
Many women use gay insinuations to manipulate their man. cxlii
Women say If you were a REAL man . . . to manipulate their man. cxliii
Women use sex as power and manipulation over men.cxliv cxlv
Men are extremely easy for women to manipulate.cxlvi cxlvii
Most women use a fake girlie-sounding voice to get their way.cxlviii
Most women are more underhandedly mean than men.cxlix cl cli
Out gay men have immunity to the wily ways of women.
Gay men must develop a comprehensive plan to have children.
40% of all women make unwanted pregnancy mistakes.clii
Most young girls are treacherous, mean, and gossipy.cliii cliv
Most women are mean, pushy, and nagging by nature.clv clvi clvii
Many young girls use the games they learn as teens when older.clviii
Many women use pregnancy to get their way with men.clix
Most girls read how to manipulate men from womens magazines.clx
People on social computer networks are not truthful.clxiclxii

Chapter 8
Shame on You
Bob shopped at Wal-Mart religiously after work before his day off, where he found everything from
breakfast cereals to motor oil for his pickup truck at exceptional prices. The people who shopped
there represented a microcosm of society. He felt a certain sense of free rein while walking the aisles
alongside overweight shoppers in tight clothes, men in dresses, women in sweat pants, people who
carried on conversations with themselves, and the other crazies who browsed the same aisles as
normal families.
For Bob, shopping at Wal-Mart was always an adventure. On one occasion, he spotted a naked man
in an astronaut helmet pushing a Wal-Mart shopping cart in the parking area with a feather sticking out
of his ass. Once, on aisle five, he shopped ten feet from a man in a Donald Duck costume.
Anonymity suited himanonymity and the freedom to be and wear whatever he chose. He worked
as a waste management employee, a fancy name for garbage man. His uniform consisted of a grey
jumpsuit and bright orange fluorescent vest that said Waste Management on the back. Bob was the
guy who arrives early mornings in a garbage conveyance truck collecting trash.
Wal-Mart worked great for Bob, especially with twenty-six-year-old Janet in the store. She worked
the cashier at Till Number 23, and once a week Bob rolled into her line with a giant cart full of frozen
meat, canned vegetables, bottled beer, and toilet paper, with a firm resolution to hit on her. By the
time he reached her cashiers station, after standing in line behind the coupon queen with her pile of
coupons or the guy demanding to pay with Confederate Dollars, when finally face to face, a smile, a
lot of nodding, and a mumbled, Thanks you sir. Have a nice day.
On one occasion, he pointed at her name tag. Err Jemima
Actually, my names Janet, she finally said one day.
Janet! his face glowed and smiling teeth sparkled, Youre a very pretty name! I mean your name,
not you. Not that youre not pretty, because you are! And I was saying He stopped himself and
playfully shoved his cart into position.
She cut him off. The name tag aint mine. Jemima was the girl who worked here before me; she
quit when she got married. They never got around to making a new tag for me. I dont mind thoughit
gets me funny looks sometimes. So, whats your name? she asked.
Im Bobert! I mean Bob, Kelley, Robert Kelley, he finally managed to say. At that moment in
time, Bob had no idea that one day in the future he would ask Janet to engage in a perverted sex act.

Kelley? I like that Kelley she repeated, I see you in here a lot.
We should have dinner sometime, Bob looked at her nose instead of her eyes.
Sure. Im off at six, wanna pick me up? Janet nonchalantly replied, without looking up from the
items on her scanner.
Sure, yes, Id like that Bob said, as his eyes widened and brows lifted. He had finally asked
Janet Stevens on a date.
The morning after his first date with Janet, and after sleeping only a couple of hours, Bob suited up
in his overalls and jumped on board the trash-mobile. His partner in grime, Christopher, was a
tall bear of a man as wide as he was tall, and ready for the haul. Bob considered Christopher a good
comrade, always lending a hand and excellent company both at work and on Friday nights. The
grime fighter crew always got together at the Johnsons Creek Bar & Grill to start their weekend
with beer and Buffalo wings.
Bobs and Christophers typical day began at three-thirty in the chilly morning. As Bob climbed
into the passenger seat of their garbage truck, Christopher would turn the ignition key and rev the
engine a couple of times to wake it up. They rarely spoke on the way toward their turf, the
neighborhood in which they collected the garbage from the trash cans in the back alleys. They had
operated the same zone for five years, and knew it so well they could finish their pickups in four-anda-half hours even though the route calculated in the office was complete in six hours. This job
efficiently left them with an hour and a half of free time before they rallied at the recycling station to
empty the trucks container of the days harvest. That extra time became sacred for Bob and
Christopher, because it allowed them plenty of time to stop at the pancake house, where they ate
copious amounts of breakfast food while relaxing and chatting. It was their daily ritual. A new ritual
was about to begin, called marriage.
Bob viewed his job differently than others. He saw it as a wholesome exercise that kept him fit. He
always said not many jobs combined jogging and weight lifting as well as his. In some instances, the
conditioning came in handy when early morning druggies tried jumping them street fighting. Bob
valued inhaling the early morning air with its wisps of fog. The job built his body into a
Marlborough Man stature, and when he wore fitted shirts and jeans, Bob looked like a model.
Dealing with refuse every day made Bob extra careful about cleanliness. His apartment was
spotless and his overalls were washed and pressed every day.
So well organized was Bobs life, he volunteered at his local soup kitchen four hours a week, even
during the holidays when he worked double shifts.
On the morning following Bobs first date with Janet, having collected their quota of garbage with
the usual time to spare, Christopher and Bob sat in front of a tower of pancakes and mugs of steaming
hot coffee. As Christopher sipped his java, Bob asked, Christopher, remember that girl I told you

about?
What, the one from the store? Christopher squeezed the last of the maple syrup onto his plate and
shook the bottle in the direction of Ann Lee, the waitress.
Yes, the cashier at Wal-Mart, the little brunette with the dimples. Well, long story short, we went
out last night, and it got pretty hot and heavy! Bob moved his plate closer.
What, on the first date? Christopher raised his eyebrows.
Im telling you, Christopher, that girl feels right. If things keep going well, Im thinking of moving
in with her!

Things went so well for Bob and Janet that after a few weeks of dating, Bob suggested they move in
together. Janet clapped her hands and jumped up and down. She cleared a couple of drawers for him,
emptied a couple of shelves, managed to create a couple of inches of wardrobe space in the closet for
Bobs very clean clothes.
Six months passed smoothly, and Bob felt good about his new living arrangement. He helped Janet
with the housecleaning, and Janet insisted on preparing homemade meals, and like a good Stepford
Wife, she always waited for the commercials before interrupting him when he watched TV.
Then, one day, he came home from work and found her a little more excited than usual.
Sweetie, dinners almost ready, Janet sang out to Bob.
Bob clickety-clicked the keyboard of his laptop. Inna mii-nute! he sang back to her, I found a
great fishing spot online, I want to email the link to Christopher and the guys at work.
He caught her reflection in the screen of his computer as she crossed the room towards the kitchen
carrying the good plates from the display cabinet in the living room. These were not normal good
plates they were China plates they bought along with crystal flutes.
Were not eating in front of the TV? Bob cocked his head in the air.
Nope, Janet replied. Tonight, I thought wed dine like grownups, in the kitchen.
Bob smiled. He enjoyed living with a girlthis girl in particular. She was so cute and sweet, with
her cut flowers, her little soaps, her dishes of potpourri, and matching towels. Sometimes his knees
went weak when she accidentally rubbed against his body.
O.K, why not? So whats on the menu? he inquired, as he got up and rubbed his hands.

Aye cooka da spaghetti, delicioso, molto bene she replied with a false Italian accent.
Thank you, bella ragazza, spaghetti is my favorite! Bob whispered in her ear, making his stomach
flutter.
Janet stacked a mountain of pasta on Bobs plate and ladled a generous helping of Bolognese sauce
onto it. She placed the plate in front of him and then sat down in front of her empty plate.
We need to talk, she began. About us, you and me. His heart skipped a beat. He looked at her
through the steam rising from his plate.
She continued, Hmm, thats right need to talk.
Okay, what is it, Janet? Whatve I done this time? Bob asked as he cleared his throat, and then
looked at her, and then down at his plate.
You havent done anything, silly! She burst out laughing.
Good, I have something to talk about, too. Its not urgent, but it is important to me. Bob had been
sitting on his thoughts for some time. He wasnt sure how Janet might react to what he had to say, but
felt determined to finally open up.
Sure, we can talk about that too. By the way, you havent done anything wrong, have you babe?
No, of course not, he spun his fork in the pasta. So what is it you wanna talk about? He
shoveled a tightly wound spiral of spaghetti into his mouth.
Its about us Bob, how we never go shopping together, how you spend all your time at that soup
kitchen where you volunteer I miss ya Janet said in her soft and alluring voice. As always,
when she wanted something and was not sure how to go about getting it, she spoke in a slightly
whining little girls voice and batted her eyelids seductively.
What is it, then? You think we dont spend enough time together? Bob replied with his mouth full,
and his pulse rate increased.
Yes, she said. And no.
Yes-no? he frowned.
Yes, thats what I think, and no, we dont spend enough time together.
Look, Janet, I work long hours, and the soup kitchen thing, well thats something I treasure doing. I
love helping others; life should be about more than taking and working all the time. I feel lucky Im
able to at least give some of my time. Bob smoothed his hair backwards with both hands, feeling
confident of his commitment.

I know, I know, youre like Mother Teresa, you are.

So? Bob pointed an ear in her direction as his hand lingered against his cheek.
Did we decide on an engagement ring yet? Janet sat upright with both hands flat on the table next
to her plate. She removed her rings and laid her naked hands on the table like a silent accusation.
Yes, Janet, no. He felt his toes curl.
Yes-no? She arched her eyebrows.
Yes, you mentioned it several times. I heard you, and no, we didnt decide on an engagement ring
and you know it. Bob sat still.
So when, Bob? When do I get my ring? She played with an invisible ring on her finger. When
are you going to propose? Whenre we getting engaged? When do I get my ring?
Bob hunched over his plate and said nothing. He tensed the muscles of his jaw. Between clenched
teeth he uttered a response, You go on and on about that ring, and honestly, I dont know.
You dont know what ring to get me? Think diamond and think big. Its as simple as that. She
puckered and softly pressed a finger on her lower lip with her head leaning at one side and her
eyelids flapping like butterflies. She looked cute as a button.
Look Janet, I havent decided yet; Im still on the fence. He pressed his hands on his eyes and
rubbed his face downwards, feeling an ache at the back of his throat.
You you dont know yet? You youre not sure if you want us to be engaged? Janet demanded
with eyes glaring. Its time we take our relationship to the next level, no?
No. I mean, at least not yet. Whats wrong with this level? Why do we need another level anyway?
What next level? What the heck is this level thing in a relationship anyway? Its like were on a game
show or something! His shoulders relaxed forward.
But Robert, if you were engaged to me, people would have more respect for you they wouldnt
look down on you, Janet stacked her own plate with food.
What do you mean, people wouldnt look down on me, and what does that even mean? Who
looks down on me? Are you looking down on me? Im not respectable enough for you? A vertical
line appeared between his eyebrows as a slight pain radiated in his jaw. The verbal duel was on.
Id love to see you at a higher standard, Janet pointed a thumb upwards.
Are you talking about my job, because I collect garbage?

No, Im not talking about your work.

Good, because I love my job, his frown flattened and he smiled with his lips closed.
But hon, every man wants his gal on his arm, right?
Hmm maybe, I guess. But what did you mean with all that respectable business you brought
up? He pushed his plate a few inches away from him.
All I mean is there are men and there are boys. Men aint afraid of commitment, they dont run
away, they stand by their woman and forge a destiny as a couple. Thats what I meant. She joined her
hands together as if pleading.
So what, now Im a flake, Im not respectable, and, Im afraid of commitment? Is that it?
Youre far from being a flake, but dont you want a family?
Im not thinking about a family? His lower teeth ground together.
Dont you want to keep a happy family around, Bob a family you can depend on?
What do you mean keepas in work like a donkey providing for your needs? With his palms
upwards, he pointed at his own chest.
Thats not what I said. All Im saying is a man should be a man.
You make it sound as if Im bailing out, like some kind of deadbeat. And whats with the voices?
One second you sound like Heidi and the next, you sound like Judge Judy! That doesnt work on me,
you know! Bobs forearms began sweating.
Janet ignored his comments about her voice. I just know real men get married and make their
wives happy! She punctuated her sentence with a determined thump of her forefinger on the table.
So Im not a real man? I need to get married to you, and hope youll validate my manhood? Is that
it? Bobs face flushed and the veins in his neck inflated.
All our friends are either engaged or married. Men get married, thats all Im saying, She
insisted.
Youre making me angry. He lifted a hand and placed a finger against his lips.
You can be a traditional man.
Look, I told you what I think about that. Men are more than commodities, servants at the service of
their wives. Men are more than ATM machines! A couple should be a team, partners, comrades who
push in the same direction. Isnt it one reason why we moved in together? If its about exchanging my

paychecks for love, well he did not finish the sentence, but his soapbox implication seemed clear.
So how do you want to do it? I should be the one who works and youll be a stay-at-home
husband? she sarcastically suggested with a frown. The little horizontal lines on her nose, which he
had always found so charming, suddenly made him mad. The word snout exploded in his mind out
of nowhere.
You know thats not what I said or want. There shouldnt be a giver and a taker. We should be
there for each other. Thats what a partnership is all about. Two people working together and sharing
the fruits of their labor. His muscles quivered, and he gestured as if slicing through an imaginary
cake in the air.
Still, Id like to know what your plans are. Janet leaned forward.
Im still thinking through all this. Living with you helped, but I havent decided anything about my
future. He chewed and swallowed food. Why cant you see my point of view?
Janet kept silent for a while, letting him cool down. After what she thought felt an appropriate
amount of time, she rallied, You know we looked at that nice ring at the jewelers.
Yes, yes. Its a nice ring; for eight grand, it better be! His belly rolled as he exhaled out loud. Or
even better, we could get a wide screen TV so we can watch Sunday sports.
I dont like sports, Janet said.
Bobs mind did a skip and jump-flip into the future, pushing Janet and her voice out of his mind.
This is mans ultimate ritual in life. His heart dropped and his brain focused on those grand football
Sundays. How could they be non-existent? Football at home was cheap, with easy parking, and the
view on an HD flat screen was better than in a real stadium.
Bob couldnt miss fantasy football, rooting for his favorite teams, enjoying his favorite pastime
thats best appreciated hunkered down at home, cozied in the man cave, and surrounded by his
beloved sports memorabilia. Life without Sundays flankers, wide receivers, and pass-happy
quarterbacks, and fans, who scream bloody murder after unscrupulous NFL calls, would be
unbearable. And Super Bowl Sundays were not just a sporting event, they were a religious retreat.
What would he do without friends eating fun food, whistling at cheerleaders? How would he ever
fill up on pizza, chicken wings, and beer until dozing on and off to sleep, without a game? Would he
enjoy shouting at the TV, scolding players when they drop the football, celebrating jumping up with a
brash cheer when his team got a big score? It became obvious: living without sports would be torture.
His thoughts of living without football, beer, chicken wings, sofa, and HD TV disappeared,
vanquished by the sound of Janets voice.
I can imagine the look on their faces when I show it to them! She raised her hand in the air,
fingers extended, drawing Bob back into her reality.

Competing with your friends, is that what its all about? Making them jealous? His eyebrows
rose.
None of them come near a ring like that! Their men didnt make the effort to buy anything really
magnificent. She coaxed him, and a mischievous flicker played in her eyes.
So if I throw eight thousand dollars at it that will make you feel special? Bob smirked. For a
moment he recalled a twelve-year-old murder experience, police lights outside, when he had looked
across the street and seen a neighbor on a stretcher in a body bag. He felt the shock of seeing a dead
person for the first time. It was a murder scene; the street was filled with police cars, an ambulance,
and flashing lights. He could just visualize himself on the news the next day. It would be about the
husband who had killed her over an argument about jewelry, an engagement ring.
Totally! Theyll be green with envy. She rose and grabbed the dessert a raspberry cheese cake
she proceeded to slice and put on plates waiting on the counter, with her back toward him.
So, with that ring youll feel youre better than them, is that it? He caressed his chin.
Thats what Ive been telling you all along, Bob! Yes! Its more than a piece of jewelry, its a
symbol of who you are, and who I am and what I mean to you. Beside herself with anticipation, she
ran around the table. Upon approaching him, she rubbed his head in her hand and kissed his forehead.
Their men dont love them half as much as you love me, Janet softly whispered. And thats why
my ring will be twice as big!
Bob looked into the living room through the kitchen door at the leather sofa, the deep wool rug,
the velvet drapes, and the shell-shaped halogens, as the depth of the abysmal chasm that lay between
him and Janet became painfully apparent. He had moved in with her, among other reasons, so they
could both save toward a possible future together. And there he was, over half a year down the line,
and not only hadnt he saved a penny, his credit cards were maxed out.
The territory of financial stress became new for Bob; it wasnt the bills or the rentthey hardly
ever dined out. It was the shoppingthere was always something to buy that couldnt wait. Every
time Janet came back from spending the afternoon with her friends, she returned with something she
had to have. He got up from the table and filled a glass with water from the tap.
Bob felt smothered and suffocated. He looked outside the window and took in the city lights. He
inhaled deeply and bent over the sink, splashing some water on his face. Feeling refreshed, Bob
turned around and sighed. Honestly Janet, having the ring wont help you get a better job beyond
working part time at Wal-Mart. How long do you plan on working there?
Till I marry you, she replied with a wink.
Wow, so if Im getting this right, marriage for you is a career choice? He pushed his hands into
his pockets and raised his shoulders.

Sure. Thats the way the world works, Janet answered with a nonchalant shrug, as if to say
DUH!
I think theres a little more to life than that. Before I talk about what I wanted to say, let me ask you
this: What kind of wedding have you got in mind, Janet?
Janet could hardly restrain herself. My wedding will have hundreds of people. Well have a huge
reception at the country club estate. Well buy an ice sculpture like Jennifer had at her wedding but a
bigger cake. We should make sure the dress is spectacular, because darling, we only get married
once, so we should spare no expense. After the ceremony we shuttle off to Paris for the honeymoon.
She gestured like the royalty awarding a military person for their bravery.
So, you got it all figured out. Bob gazed at her with a stunned expression. He didnt like how she
emphasized the word we when talking about her marriage dream.
With all the overtime you do, we can afford it, and Im worth it, dont you think? My family isnt
able to pay. Ill make sure its a proper wedding like normal people have. Dont you want to be
normal?
There you go again. Whats normal? He asked in a growling voice. God, Janet, youve spent my
future income and now you think Im not normal.
Normal is married and happy with a wife, like Jennifer. I want her and everyone looking at us and
saying, Look at Janet and Bob, theyve really got it all.
So theres nothing in life for me but marriage? I get the feeling youre manipulating me into going
through with this engagement. I think Im pretty normal right now, Janet, I think weve already got it
all. He sat back at the table and used his fork as a stress rod, torturing the slice of cheesecake she
brought for him. He cut it in half, quartered it, and then continued dissecting until the plate was all but
covered in crumbs, and he couldnt bring himself to eat a single bite, despite her assurance that it was
the best cheesecake ever.
Whats going on exactly? Are you planning on leaving me for someone else? Is there another
woman? Thats why youre reluctant to commit? Janet fired her questions like a machine gun, not
leaving him any space for answers, treating the absence of answers as admissions of guilt.
You know there isnt. Why so jealous? Bob shook his head back and forth.
One of my girlfriends, Cynthia, wonders if theres another man.
What the fuck? He straightened his back.
What do you expect, people see you tiptoe and beat around the bush, so they think maybe theres a
reason why you take so long to settle?

And what did you say when she basically told you Im gay? He leaned in, put his hands flat on
hers and looked her straight in the eyes.
Look, Bob, I dont think youre gay, but you need some reason to avoid engagement, dont you?
Her voice begged, rising up a full octave.
Yes! he barked sharply. Yes! There is a reason, but that reason has nothing to do with another
woman or another man, thank you very much! He slapped his forehead with his open hand, and
then added, You just dont get it, do you?
Janet kept digging with amateur philosophies, Did someone injure you in the past? Why are you
such damaged goods when it comes to marriage?
Damaged goods? Jesus! What on earth do you mean, Janet? He rattled his head as if unable to
listen to her comments.
A real man must be with a wife. Without a wife, youre youre weird, you are! Yes, weird!
How exactly does not being married makes someone weird? Bobs chest tightened and eyebrows
arched. I dont like these questions.
You know, men who arent married are thought of as oddballs. People might wonder if you have a
sex problem.
There it is again. Youre trying your best to make me feel ashamed about myselfthat I might
have a sex problem. Youre pissing me off. Im a homosexual, a nut-job, a weirdo, or an impotent, is
that it? He counted on his fingers as he enumerated.
My friends are all of the opinion I should reel you into marriage.
So they think Im a catch, then? Bob cocked his head to one side and smiled while trying not to.
Yes. Youre handsome and youve a good job, I did tell them that. Janet blinked her eyes.
But Janet, your friends have nothing to do with this. Why do you even look for their approval?
Theyre nothing! They mean nothing to us. You should leave them out of our business.
They are something, theyre my friends. They want me being happy, Bob. Her hand clenched.
And marrying me will make you happy? He scratched his cheek.
Yup! Thats the plan. Janet sat up.
Is that what you told them that you have a plan? Bob leaned forward and dove into her eyes.

Yup! Were friends, we tell each other everything.

Thats bullshit! Would you run and tell them if you caught me cheating?
You cheated on me? How dare you! She reached across the table and slapped him.
What the ? What did you do that for? Whats wrong with you? He rubbed the sting out of his
cheek as his stomach tensed.
You deserved it, you cheater! She pouted.
So thats how its going to be when were marriedyou screaming like a banshee and slapping
me across the face?
Janet got up and turned away from him. She tapped her foot nervously. Who was it? Lets hear it,
who was it?
Who was who? His hands trembled.
Who was the slut? The whore you fucked behind my back! She screeched, whipped around and
glared at him.
Are you hearing yourself? I said if! What part of the word if dont you understand? But you
know what? It doesnt matter; dont ever raise your hands on me, you hear me? he warned, as his
nostrils flared.
Dont cheat on me, you wont get slapped. Simple as that.
Oh really simple as that? Look at youwhat kind of behavior is that? A twitchy feeling raced
through; he wrinkled his nose and grimaced.
Whats wrong with my behavior? Tell me!
Seriously, look at you all red in the face, screaming like a boiled cat, foaming at the mouth! Its
like I stepped into a zombie horror movie from the fifties! Bob slung one hand back.
You cant hurt me! She stood firm with her arms crossed.
And you cant slap me!
Ive been hurt before, you know? She wiped her tears with her fists.
Weve all been cheated on and betrayed, so what? He resisted asking if that made her damaged
goods, but didnt want to cause added pain.

You better not cheat on me, I can tell you that! she cried.
Well, if I cheat on you, its me being me. Bob explained.
What the hells that supposed to mean?
Im wishing youd ease up on the cheating thing. Youre out of control. He pressed his fist against
his lip and pushed.
Cheating, I hate that kinda shit!
Well get over it. You act like you have immunity to feeling betrayed.
Id hate you for that. Janet seethed.
And I hate you for slapping me! Where did you learn you can put hands on someone for cheating?
He refused to look at her.
I guess I saw my mother do it. I remember as a little girl and my dad walked in the door, home
half-drunk with a lipstick stain on his collar my mom slapped him silly. She kicked his ass nine
ways to Sunday!
You know, therere laws against domestic violence, and its not just for men who rough up their
women, it goes both ways. I could have you arrested, but wont because thats embarrassing for a man
to get beat by the woman.
Okay, fair enough! Ill never do it again. When did you cheat? She raised he brows and pressed
her nose forward.
Janet, calm down a moment. Im just asking, if I did cheat on you, would you tell? Would you run
back to your girlfriends and tell them I cheated? Bob stood up and walked his dishes to the sink.
No, of course I wouldnt. Why would I? she thought for a second.
If you told them, youd start drama in the group, right? He looked out the window, entranced by a
cricket entangled in a spider web. It gesticulated, but the more frenzied it fought, the more entangled it
became. The sticky strings of the web never broke; they extended, cocooning the cricket it in the
deadly trap.
Janet gathered the rest of the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink. Bob continued washing his
plate, and kept on washing the rest of the dishes. She stood next to him with a dish towel slung on her
shoulder.
My friends, they would side with me, naturally. She sounded proud.

Would they? he asked with a crooked smile, and before she could reply, he drove his point home.
Like you sided with whats her name again your friend whose husband dumped her and moved
in with a woman twice her age?
Muriel. Janet hung her head.
Yes, thats the one. Only after her husband bailed, you started calling her Mooo-riel. You and
your friends sat right here in our living room and went on and on about how she was a fat ass who
wasnt good enough for him and how he probably left her by jumping through the window with a
parachute made out of one of her bras and underwear.
Yes! For her birthday, the girls bought her a bell on a necklace! But this is completely different!
Different? How different? He finished the dishes and dried his hands on Janets shoulder rag.
Because, err, because it was! It was different! Janet stuttered.
Yes, so you said, but why?
Because she was fat, thats why! But thats one girl, and she was fat! My other friends are all
happy in their relationships, very happy. Thats what I want for us, dont you understand? I want to be
like them, have what they have, is that too much to ask? she pleaded.
You think what they show you are who they really are? Its not. They show you what they want you
seeing; thats not their real life. Its like a restaurant, you walk in and all you see are carpets and
chandeliers, mahogany furniture and expensive China. What you dont see is the greasy kitchen and
the rat-infested dumpster.
Ha! Thats where youre wrong! Ive been at Jenifers house and I did see my friends kitchens! I
dont know, Bob; I think Jenifer got hers at Ikea. She went for pine cabinets and marble tops. They
didnt do metal floors back then.
What? Bob asked. Look, forget the kitchen. What Im saying is that people, people in general,
including your friends, show off the good parts of their lives and hide the shitty parts. So, when you
say that you want your life to be like theirs, it makes no sense, because you dont know what their
lives are like in reality
I know my friends well enough to know I dont think theyre unhappy. She frowned and waved a
hand through the air.
You dont know that. Maybe they fight all the time, maybe they drink, maybe they cheat on each
other. For all we know, they might actually hate each other and theyd never tell you, like you
wouldnt tell them stuff that reflects badly on you.
The dishes complete, with Bob engrossed in the argument, he let the water run. He forgot his
important information as the soothing background sound of flowing water muted the irritation he felt

with Janets voice as it grew whinier by the minute.

Janet fished a cigarette out of her pocket. Bob lit it for her with the kitchen gas lighter resembling a
prop from Star Trek. He hated Janets smoking, but had given up arguing about it long ago.
Yes, yes, of course they argue, of course they fight, everyone does, but that doesnt mean theyre
not happy together. You need to see the big picture: married people are happy people. Janet puffed
her smoke in his face.
I dont think thats true, Janet. At least not for menfrom what I see around me at work, the
married guys arent as happy as you make it sound. They take every opportunity to spend time away
from their wives. In fact, Giorgio, this guy who works the same shift as Christopher and me, won the
lottery about six months agonot millions, but enough to retire early. Well, hes been married for
twenty-odd years, and he didnt tell his wife because hed rather work and collect garbage than spend
time at home with her!
How do you know that?
I go by what men say and how they tell jokes about their wives. A slight headache throbbed.
And your male friends arent happy?
He thought about every married man he ever knew. Hell, no!
Maybe they married the wrong women?
All Im saying is you need to stop listening to your friends. I dont think theyre a reliable source.
They act so perfect, but I dont know them and you dont either.
Janet took one last drag of her cigarette and flicked the stub through the window. Bob followed the
tiny missile; he felt amazed, seeing it fly through the spider web he had observed earlier, freeing the
trapped cricket, enabling it to spread its wings and fly away, free, with a new lease of life. The
analogy was not lost on him. Once again his private thoughts got interrupted by Janets conversation.
You wanted to tell me something?
Bob took a moment. Yes, but it can wait. Its been waiting for a while. I need a break; lets stop,
okay?
Bob knew Janet was under a tremendous amount of pressure from her friends. As the only one left
who wasnt married, being reminded of it almost daily must be putting her through things he could not
imagine. Hed let the argument slide this once.

Work today made Bob want sex from Janet; he rushed home. But it wasnt long before Janet was at
it again. After working for a couple weeks and mulling over the prospect of getting married, Bob felt
exhausted. It had been a long week at work; his partner in grime had been sick half the week and he
was replaced with a sub who didnt know the route. All Bob wanted to do was come home, see what
Janet had cooked, and snuggle up on the couch with her and a good action movie.
When he got home, though, he immediately became aware he would get ambushedagain, on the
front door was a printout of the ring Janet had her heart set on. As soon as he opened the door, he got
a whiff of another favorite meal: Bleu cheese steak with garlic mashed potatoes.
Hi, sweetie! I prepared a nice meal for you. She spoke in her chirpy, sweet voice. Usually, that
meant she wanted something.
Bob sat down at the table, and it wasnt long into the meal that they picked up their argument from a
few nights before.
Alright, something else, you know, my parents, my friends, everyone, they always ask me, So, did
he propose already? I feel like an idiot every time.
Jeez! Thats a whole lot of people whore interested in our lives! They should get a life of their
own, dont you think? Bob remembered looking out the window into the night weeks ago and thought
of the little crickets miraculous escape from certain death.
And also, Janet continued as if he had said nothing, what about children?
What about them? Bob turned around, tapping one foot on the floor with slight amazement.
I want to birth your children, because I love you.
What? We said nothing about children. Im not sure I want any. Bob felt cold sweat run down his
spine.
Thats what people do, Bob. People get married, Bob. People have children, Bob. People work
hard and provide for their children, Bob. Thats called doing the right thing, Bob. She instructed,
waving her finger at him as if he were a little boy.
And I suppose when you say well provide for them, what you mean is youll quit your part-time,
minimum-wage job and stay at home while I work double shifts? Bob crossed his arms defensively.
I agree with you, it makes no sense for me to work if my salary only covers the price of day care
for the children, I might as well be there for them. Thats what people do, Bob. Janet sounded like
lecturing another diatribe.
That marriage you describe sounds like a lot of being at home with the kids and enjoying life for
you and a lot of working long hours, coming home exhausted at night, and never seeing my kids for

me.
But thats love thats life thats what people do. She came closer to Bob and slung her arms
around his neck.
Not all people.
And its a lot of fun making the kids right? she whispered in his ear as she hung on his neck.
You know what, thats another thing, sex. He unclasped her arms from his neck and stepped back.
Love? she asked.
No, not love, sex. Im talking about sex. This is what I wanted to talk about.
Janet lowered her voice, Okay, sex, whats there to say? We do it, no?
Yes, we do it once a week, you lie there looking at the ceiling and I feel like a necrophiliac.
A what? Janet asked with a blank face.
A necrophiliac, someone who has sex with a corpse.
Thats disgusting! she gasped.
Bob opened his eyes wide, No kidding unfortunately I know what it feels like and I dont like
it! And it shouldnt be like that. Were young, we should be having sex a lot more, we should do stuff,
kinky stuff, exciting stuff. At our age, we should be fucking each others brains out like rabbits on
steroids! Instead, we do well you know what we do.
I dont get it, what else do you want to do? We go all the way, what more do you want? Janet
blushed into the roots of her hair.
He leaned and whispered in her ear.
Yuk! Thats disgraceful! Im not doing that! she screeched.
He whispered something else in her ear.
Janet recoiled, Ouch! Thats painful! Youre not doing that!
He whispered one more time.
Pouah! Who does that!? Certainly not us!
So, where does that leave me? Am I supposed to give up having a fulfilling sex life in the name of

love? Bob threw his arms up as a gesture of surrender.

But all that stuff, thats sick! Its dirty, its degrading, she sniveled.
Whats sick about it? Whats degrading about it? If I put my
Shut up, youre a pervert! I dont want to hear about it!
If that makes me a pervert, then all men are perverts. If Im a pervert, then so be it, Ill be a
pervert. And if I dont get it with you, what should I do? Get it somewhere else? He raised his
voice.
So thats why you want to cheat on me! I knew it! she cried between sobs and tears rolled down
her cheeks.
We need better sex or no more us. He pointed toward her heart and then his finger made a thud,
pointing at his own heart.
What the fuck are you talking about?
Couples need good sex experiences, Janet, thats what keeps people together.
Sex is for procreation.
I dont think so. He felt his temperature rise and strengthened his posture.
But I cant Tears continued running down her face.
Normally, Id console you when you cry. Not this time.
Why not? She lowered her head and wiped away a tear.
Hell no! Who made the rule that men come to their crying womens side?
I dont know, maybe God? Janet answered with a cracking voice.
Maybe God, you sound like an idiot!
I really dont know, but I want you, she whimpered.
Stop all the crying. Is that what most normal people do too? he said sarcastically.
You dont care about me.
Fuck that shit. Stop making me feel like Im wrong. Youre mad because I didnt fall for your

plans.
Youre an ass, she shouted.
Are you crying because youd lose face with your girlfriends and family if they found out Im not
satisfied with you? Bob took a stayed look.
She looked up in wonder. I would never tell them, Id be mortified if they found out!
Tell me then, why are you crying tell the truth. Bob took her face in his hands and looked into
her eyes.
Im crying because youre mean to me.
Thats not true; I may be mean to you, but thats not why youre crying. Bob shook his head.
Im crying because you never loved me! she insisted behind her pouting faade.
Thats not true either. I did love you even before we spoke at Wal-Mart and I think I still do, and
you know it. So tell me the truth, why are you crying?
Im crying because I love you so much and I wish I knew how to make you happy and fulfilled.
And when we get married, Ill do everything to make you happy, she swore, arching her eyebrows
and making puppy eyes.
Youre just interested in pleasing your girlfriends.
No Bob no I love you.
Youre more interested in putting on a show for your girlfriends, family and friends with some
kind of fantasy marriage with a big ring, than in having a serious relationship with me, Bob spoke,
with loud and definite words.
No, but I really love you, Janet cried.
Bullshit Janet, youre crying because its the last arrow in your quiver. Youve been manipulating
me into marrying you and you used every trick in the book to achieve your goal. You tried tricking me,
bullying me, shaming me, daring me, enticing me, belittling me, threatening me but nothing worked.
So now, you use this last trick, your crocodile tears, to see if that will melt me. Let me save you the
effort: it wont work. Bob pinched her chin and spoke slowly and deliberately.
What exactly are you getting at? Janets eyes widened.
Janet, I know I dont want a wife wholl quit her job the day after the wedding and sit on the couch
all day eating bonbons and watching daytime TV. I dont want a sex life where I should be grateful if

you open your legs and let me do it once a week like its a chore. I dont want children Ill never
see because Ill be too busy breaking my back, providing for them. In short, I dont want
Dont say it, Bob! Her voice hitched and quivered.
In short, I dont want to marry you. Ill go now and come back for my things when youre at work
next week, he almost exhaled his last word in gratefulness for his new life ahead.
B, but, but please dont go Bob.
And you can stop calling me a dozen damn times a day bugging me and checking up to see if Im
faithful. I fucking hate that!
No, she said as a last gasp.
Ill pay three months rent and bills. Thatll give you time to find a roommate if you find yourself
strapped. He thanked God for all the freedoms he was about to embark upon.
That night, he rented a room in a motel close to his workplace; the next day he returned to Janets
and collected his clothes and CDs. He took nothing else.
Janet posted an ad, looking for a roommate.

Today
Like an antacid tablet, relief came immediately, and ended the hourly annoying phone calls of a
jealous woman chasing her man. The headache of nagging text and phone messages at work was cured
overnight, and Bob took time to travel and made friends. He had sex with a lot of beautiful women
while drinking a lot of beer.
After a hiatus of three months, he returned to his job and his well-organized life where Christopher
and he eat breakfast every day at their usual pancake house. He has continued to visit Wal-Mart once
a week.
Bob doubled the amount of volunteer hours he puts in at the soup kitchen. His interest in making a
positive contribution to the less fortunate expanded, and one day his eye caught sight of a new girl
who volunteered twice a week.
Her name is Julie Lopez; she is very pretty, has black eyes, and black curly hair. Julie recently
graduated from business school and plans on launching an online business selling her own line of
baby clothes.
Hes resolved to ask her out next week.
In the past two months, Bob has become interested in recycling careers, the kind of jobs utilizing
waste smartly. He researched techniques using discarded products to benefit the environment. He then
applied for a management position at a company that specializes in recycling refuse products,
converting waste into combustion fuels. His spirits now soar as he participates in something to
benefit future generations.
By using an inventive part of his brain, and inspired by a spiritual calling, he is positioned for a
great future. Bob smiles a lot these days.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

63% of women are jealous of their married friends.clxiii
Men: Women use social situations to pressure you to marry.clxiv clxv
Men: Women nag and pressure men into a marriage.clxvi clxvii
Women nag their loved one 32 continuous days each year. clxviii
Divorces are caused by womens nagging.clxix
Women network 30% more than men discussing relationships.clxx
Most single women are concerned about how friends/family will judge them. clxxi
Most women slap their men and they do not report the incident to authorities.
Most women instinctually need to get married and have children.
Men do not need engagement or marriage to be decent or whole.
Men can hire someone to manage the home and prepare meals.clxxii
A lot of women ask if their man is gay in order to control him.
Women do not think about what equality means in a relationship.clxxiii
Women require lots of affirmation from men because daddy spoiled them.
If a man doesnt talk to his girl daily, she will get grumpy and difficult.clxxiv
Men: Women slap you if they think you cheated.clxxv clxxvi
When you marry, you put up with the wrath of mom, family, and friends.
Men: Beautiful women; they can suck the money out of you.

Chapter 9
I Want a Family
Lisa Woods and Craig Johnson met and dated for several months, ignited for all the usual reasons;
Craig, fresh out of the college at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor, with time on his hands and
a bottomless well of testosterone, and she well, she liked the idea of having sex with a college
graduate who drove his own car; neither with forethought toward the future after their wild sex flings.
The telephone rang. Demonstrating his prowess, Craig dashed back from the kitchen, pizza and
Coke in hand, and jumped over a chair. He slid towards the coffee table, and bent over the couch
beside which the telephone sat on the coffee table.
A swift maneuver, he thought, except for the corner of the coffee table catching him in the knee. Ho
fluff! he exclaimed. I guess I need a dad-nab wireless phone! he added, talking to no one in
particular, swiping aside his dark hair that fell across his forehead. Living alone, he had developed
the habit of talking to himself.
His first time out on his own, Craig loved his studio in the Eberwhite District, though his income as
a Teachers Assistant forced him into frugal budgeting. Down-to-earth, sound, and dressed as though
he was ten years older than his real age, he wore heavy-framed glasses and buttoned-down shirts. He
looked like a mix between Clark Kent and an accountant.
Unlike Clark Kents bespectacled alter ego, Craig wasnt into saving the world. He enjoyed
afternoons at the museum and evenings at the opera or the symphony. He tried his hand at composing a
classical piece in the style of Aaron Copeland, his favorite composer back in college days.
The fluff word, another idiosyncrasy, went back to his childhood, nine, maybe ten years old, when
he had overheard his Dad, whilst driving him to school, mutter at a driver who cut him off, to go fuck
himself. That day at school, he made sure to give the same advice to school mates, and to some of his
teachers, who, instead of following his counsel, wrote his parents about it. A sound thrashing and a
bar of soap in the mouth later, he promised himself solemnly that he would never ever use foul
language again. So, venting frustration, Craig created his own lexicon of pseudo swear words
sounding as close as possible to the four letter ones used to replace: fluff, sit, motor-farmer, clockchocker etc.
The phone rang again, rattling his nerves.
Jelow, he said, because sometimes he forgot, and he did the word replacement thing with regular
words.

Allo, Craig? Its Lisa erm are you home?

You call me on my home phone, I answer, and you ask if Im home? Thats funny! His throaty
laughter and feelings of camaraderie reminded him of the fun he had in bed with his caller. They
visited one another every so often, whenever he got horny or she, lonely.
Lisa worked as a shelf stocker at the West Liberty Street 7-Eleven a couple of blocks away from
Craigs little bachelor pad, convenient for both of them. Most people called them friends with
benefits, or what Craig called fluff buddies.
Anyways its good to hear your voice; I havent seen you in ages. Craigs pulse beat faster.
I hope youre well. Lisa replied.
Actually, Im greatthe weathers fantastic, the suns shining, birds are chirping, and that always
puts me in a good mood. Craig fidgeted with the phone. From the window, Craig looked at the
warming blue sky where a bright white cloud lingered.
Look, we need to talk she sounded nervous, impatient. Is it all right for me to come over?
Sure, why not, Craig sat motionless, whats it about?
Id rather tell you in person err, if you dont mind. I can be at your place in ten minutes, cool?
Cool. She already hung up, and he felt like pacing.
Craig speculated about what she might say; maybe she wanted to break up, maybe shed met
someone and she wanted him out of the picture. He patrolled around the living room, straightening up,
putting things in some order, and twiddling. He decided he didnt care if she wanted to leave him,
because he never thought of them as a couple, more a friendship based on mutual attraction, and not
emotionally invested. In fact, apart from good physical chemistry, they didnt have much in common.
He recalled their first awkward meeting: her eager fingers had mapped the planes of his muscles all
the way to the clasp of his pants. She opened them, nipping along his neckline, and reached inside.
She groaned as he slid or almost nervously jammed his shaking fingers across her breasts and lifted
her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her to the bedroom wall and, with one
arm, quickly shoved his clothing out of the way.
The doorbell rang.
Hi, Lisa. Craig greeted her with a kiss on each cheek, European style. His hand quivered a little
as invited her in. Can I get you a drink? I have orange juice Without waiting for her answer, he
strolled into the kitchen, rapidly returning with a carton of juice and two glasses.
Thanks! Smiling up at him, she sat with ease on the couch. He poured, and she took a sip of juice
and made a funny mouse face because of the acidity. So . . . can you guess? One hand floated as if it
were conduction an orchestra.

Err, guess what? One of Craigs feet jittered as he moved towards her.
Can you guess what my big news is?
Big news? Hmm, no, not really. Did you win the lottery?
No silly! Well almost, but no, not the lottery. Well, for one thing, I dropped out of school. Im not
concentrating on my career. She placed her hands together at the palm and placed then under her
chin, like praying.
What no career? He rubbed his chest.
Yes, school got in the way. Ive got more important things to think of now.
More important than being an engineer? I thought thats what you wanted to do. Craig put down
his glass on the coffee table, but then he realized he didnt know what to do with his hands so he
picked it up again.
It was what I wanted to do, but not anymore. I have new plansa whole new life, really. She
giggled as if she had made a private joke.
What is it? I think you might be making a mistake, said Craig. You should stick it out, at least
until you get your degree. He weaved on his feet, back and forth.
Lisa cleared her throat, then she put her hands on her knees and looked Craig in the eyes with a
huge smile, Baby, Im pregnant! Youre a baby daddy!
Craig almost dropped his glass, so he promptly put it down on the coffee table for safety. What the
fluff! Really? Are you fudging with me?
Im pregnant, she lifted both hands out to her sides.
Noooo, Craigs voice whooshed as he felt as if a trap door had busted open under his feet and he
tumbled into a bottomless abyss of nothingness, his chest collapsed inwards, crushing his lungs and
making it impossible to breathe.
So, what should we name him? Lisa grinned.
What? Craigs chest stopped breathing.
Or her? Youre right, we dont know if its a boy or a girl though Id love a little boy, she said,
before adding, Or a little girl. We dont know, do we? Lisa used both hands to twinkle her fingers
together.

We dont know Ill tell you what we dont know His brain spun in turmoil. We dont know
Im the father. Thats what we dont know!
Oh, but you are the father. She rested poised.
But thats impossible! Im not a father, Im not. I cant be. Im not! Craigs breath hitched and he
dropped his shoulders. Her calmness infuriated him. He repeated his own words as if by doing so it
would become true. He stood over the ruins of his future and wondered how outside the window the
sun kept shining and the birds sang while his life exploded into a thousand pieces, a thousand hours
and days and years of misery and unhappiness.
Impossible? she cocked her head aside. Didnt your Mommy tell you about the birds and the
bees?
Ooh, Craig hung his head and stared at the floor. Yes, he had fucked her, all right, nine ways till
Sunday. Missionary, doggy style, bent over and cowgirl he did it all they did it all. But still, it
was about fucking, having fun, enjoying life, not about making babies and starting a family! With his
whole life was in front of him, all life goals he still wanted to accomplish. Are my dreams destroyed?
You can moan all you want, youre still the father. She crossed her legs high and he caught
himself looking up her skirt. What the fuck, man! Stop looking up her skirt; thats what got me in
this mess in the first place!
O.K., wait! Wait one second. He felt like someone had pointed a gun to his head.
Ill wait, take your time weve got nine months. She smiled.
Its a joke. Its a joke, right? Youre pulling my leg, youre fudging with me. O.K.! Good one, you
got me, ha-ha. Now tell me the truth its a joke, right? His gut churned rocks.
A joke?! You think Id joke about my little baby? She cradled her imaginary bump with both
hands.
But, are you sure? I mean are you absolutely sure? His heart thudded.
Sure, Im sure! A mother knows Ive missed my period and I never miss my period, Im very
regular. She impersonated a ticking clock.
Craig put a hand on the wall, steadying himself. Lets not jump to conclusions lets keep our
wits about us lets not panic, right? He sensed a weighted down feeling and his posture wobbled.
You think I panic?! she shrieked. I dont panic. I missed my period. I never miss my period. Its
as simple as that.
Craig scratched his head and rubbed his eyes, obliterating the picture of a horror scene manifesting

right in front of him.

God, help, someone please throw me a life preserver.
Still, but, how can you possibly be pregnant? You said you were on the pill.
I was! she nodded repetitively, adding, in a slightly lower voice. Most of the time.
Most of the what now? Craigs eyes widened and brow rose upwards.
Most of the time, she replied, I was on the pill most of the time. Except when I wasnt.
Whats that even mean? He moved back slightly, giving himself more personal space.
Well, sometimes you forget, right? You think you took the pill and then it turns out you didnt. It
happens, sometimes.
It happens! he roared. It happens?
She looked at him very calmly and self-assuredly. Yes, Craig, it happens. What, like you never
forget anything! Only the other week, you were supposed to bring flowers to my Moms birthday, and
you forgot. People forget things, Craig.
Flowers for a birthday! You think thats the same thing? You think its comparable? He felt
flabbergasted and his gaze momentarily went unfocused; leaning his back against the wall, he sagged
slightly, worrying what the future would be.
Forgettings forgetting, and you do sometimes forget stuff. I forgot one little thing Its not the end
of the world.
Not the end of the world? He slapped his own face with both hands. Well fuck me! he broke a
lifetime promise of not cursing. And once the first fuck came out of his mouth, the rest poured out.
Shit! Fuck! Just bend me over, slap my ass, and jizz on my back! I mean for fucks sake, how could
you forget some bullshit like that!
Shaken by his explosion, she lowered her head and her voice: I have no excuse, Craig I just
forgot.
Seeing her so contrite all of a sudden calmed him. He shook his head despondently and mumbled.
Its fucked up, thats what it is, its completely fucked up, his body went limp and he fell with a flop
onto the couch.
She reached over to him and tapped his knee with her hand consoling him. But sweetie, it makes
no difference now; the important thing is were having a baby. Im so excited about having the baby
and Im so glad Im having it with you. You will be a great father.

He pushed her hand away and turned to face her. Excited? Whats wrong with you? Did you hit
your head or something? We need to act fast, we need Plan B.
Plan B?
Yes, Plan B. He impatiently tapped his pockets, making sure his car keys were there. Plan B, as
in, the morning after pill, you know. We should hurry; the drug store is only a few blocks away!
The morning after pill? That wont do. She laughed.
Why not? His brain stopped.
Hey, Einstein! The name says it all, no? Its the morning after pill, not the following month, a
week after you miss your period pill, genius!
And why exactly didnt you take it the morning after? When you realized you forgot to take the
contraceptive pill?
Its too embarrassing to go to the pharmacy and buy it; you have to ask the pharmacist they judge
you, they look at you like youre a slut or something. She blushed.
He opened his arms wide, letting his sarcasm fly. No, no, youre right; asking for the pill is
embarrassing! Much better becoming pregnant and having a child than have strangers think youre not
a virgin! Do you hear yourself? He face palmed as he let out a nervous laugh.
Next time you can go and buy it! She pouted.
He paced around like a caged animal. Noyou told me you didnt like how a rubber feels so I
didnt need protection. You wanted it raw. He loosened the open collar on his shirt; more certain
than ever he didnt father the kid.
Yes, I did. She rubbed her nose.
And I wore a condom anyway, he remembered.
Condoms fail all the time, fool. She made a small frown.
Thats impossible. He raised a shoulder high.
Condoms arent one hundred percent protection, silly.
What kinda cockamamie fuck shits this? His neck muscles bulged and lips pinched together.
It is what it is. Her arms moved in slow motion.

He leaned to one side, plunged his hand in his pocket, and brought out a fistful of condoms he threw
at her. There, you see? Im always packing!
It makes no difference. Condoms fail all the time, theyre far from being 100%, you know? She
brushed the condoms from her lap and said in a derisive tone.
But we werent even a serious couple, we werent dating we fucked around, for Gods sake!
Craig ran fingers through his hair.
Last time I checked, fucking around is exactly how you make children, you know? And lets face
it; its great Im pregnant. I couldnt be happier! She laughed.
Happy? Youre happy about that? This is completely fucked up, thats what it is! Craig tried to
clear his mind.
You should be more positive, look at the bright side, the silver-lining. Really, why cant you be
more positive?
Positive? Im positive! Im positive this is the worst thing in the world, this is a catastrophe! Of
that, Im 100% positive! He tapped his hand on his chest.
Well be OK, dont worry She put one palm on her tummy.
We? What do you mean we? He raised his hands defensively.
Well its our child. Lisa raised her eyebrows.
The room went silent. Oh fuck! Fucketty fuck fuck fuck!
Dont be silly, Craig. She forced a laugh.
Im hurtin here. Im not happy about this. He balled up a fist.
Well, this might be a good thing for us. Her face brightened.
Im shaking with all this. He stretched out a trembling hand.
Its gonna be okay.
Okay? But, shit, I dont want a kid.
Oh, come on, Craig.
Come on? Come where?! Im not ready for all this. He pushed his arms in the air. He couldnt

reach her thoughts, and imagined pathetic images of poor, starving, unwanted children, begging,
futureless. He wished she wanted out of this horror movie scene as much as he did.
Its hard, I know, she said understandingly.
What about abortion, have you thought of that? he blurted out. God, what an ugly word. But he
couldnt think of anything else.
Abortion? she shrieked. Thats a sin! She crossed herself several times.
Look, I know its not the mans decision, but youre pro-choice, no? I know I am, so here you go!
Youve the choice, choose!
No. She intertwined fingers and dropped her hands in her lap.
But you have to!
I thought you said you were pro-choice?
Im, Im pro-choice, and thats why I choose you must have an abortion.
Thats not what pro-choice meansyou know that! Pro-choice means I get to choose and I choose
doing the right thing. Were keeping the our baby, end of discussion! She raised her finger, shutting
him up.
Aha! You said were keeping our baby! He slapped the back of one hand into his other hand.
Yes, so? She looked at him with a blank face.
So you didnt say my baby, you said our baby, so this means Im part of the decision, I have a
right to choose! I got her.
Im not killing my baby! Its a sin; its against my religion! She stamped her foot.
First of all, my religion says I dont want a kid. Secondly, Im entitled to have my say about an
abortion, and thirdly, if youre Gods so against abortion well well you shouldve fucked him
instead of me! He counted on his fingers.
Shut your mouth. God wont like what youre saying, she pointed.
Oh Jesus, here we go. Dont you think the man should have a say?
No, its my body. Im the person who decides.
But two people made the decision to make the kid? He raised two fingers in defiance.

Dont matter, its my body.

But I was involved from the conception. He wrung his hands together and felt a sting in his chest.
You cant make this decision. She moved one finger back and forth.
And Im one who you want help raising it.
Well both raise it so what?
Damn it, dont you see Im an important part of all this?
No, I dont see that. she said, her face set in stone.
Ill pay for the whole thing, Ill get you the best clinic, everything! He tried desperately bringing
her on his side.
Im not aborting! Her lips quivered, tears rolled down her cheeks. Its murder! You hear me?
Murder!
Stunned for a moment, unable to see why Lisa remained so persistent, he came up with another
idea. O.K., just one second, what about adoption?
And I get to walk away scot-free and never see you crazy bitch again in my life!
I dont think so. Im already attached to the baby.
My God, Lisa, do you know what youre saying? He felt like a rat in a cage. Anger rose through
his chest like smelly shit rising up his throat.
Im sure about this. I already feel like a mommy. I have maternal instincts.
But you havent given birth yet. I know when dogs birth puppies the she-dog learns by instinct,
becoming a good mother only after the birth. She cleans the new puppies with her tongue. She eats the
placenta. Oh God he hated that idea, but he wanted to be as graphic, putting her off.
Im not a dog!
Youre not a dog, no, you aint. Dogs are smart, trustworthy, and loyal! Youre a bitch, thats what
you are! he snapped, remembering her fucking doggy-style. His anger and fear bubbled up from the
depths.
Is there no way out of it? Am I trapped?

Dont say that. Im not a bitch. I cant help it if I feel protective of our unborn child. She
protectively covered two hands over her belly.
You have feelings already? His brows arched.
Yes, I love the baby already.
So for his sake you should give him up so he can have a better life, a future with parents who love
him. He moved one hand toward her, fingers twitching then he slowed his hand into a fist and placed
it on his heart.
No Im not giving himor herup, she tugged her tummy tight.
But, but Oh God, I dont know what to say anymore! I feel like crying! His breath escaped in a
gasp. He looked at the floor, feeling an urge to cry. His face squeezed into a weeping expression.
Dont cry, I like being with you, and were the same age, and with a baby on the way, dont you
see? Well be together forever and ever, her voice said, sweetly.
In his head the words resonated like a never ending echo. Forever and ever and ever and ever
His mind zoned full circle around the idea and he returned to square one. But wait a minute
werent you seeing others? he cracked his knuckles and looked hard into her eyes.
No.
They had rarely talked and just got down to sex. Craig checked those faded memories while
reading something in her eyes. Youre lying to me, arent you?
No. Why would I do that? She closed her eyes with a pained expression painted on her face.
I dont know why, I cant think straight right now. He cracked his knuckles again.
Look honey, it took me a while before this all sank in that Im having a baby. At first I couldnt
wrap my head around it, but youll get used to it.
Im not stupid, Lisa, I know half the women who become pregnant out of wedlock do it by tricking
the man into it; they poke holes in the condom or they forget to take their pill. You think I dont know
that?
Im not like that, CraigI know Im not deceiving you.
How do we know its mine? A pain zinged through his chest.
Well, Lisa stuttered.
How? He repeated.

She returned his gaze for a while, and then said, Well, I guess I dont know for sure but the one
other guys married, so it has to be you.
So, I might not be the father after all? He stood still and felt his heart stop. Did I hear you right?
A slight possibility youre not. She pushed lint off her shoulder.
You just lied to me! You admitted you lied!
Well
Oh God! You fucked a married man? Why? His expression tightened and he felt wobbly and
lightheaded as he scooted down the couch far away from her. He wanted distance. He squeezed
towards the furthest armrest and clung on for safety.
He found me attractive, and I guess I felt alone. I hope hes not the father. She fidgeted and
rocked back and forth.
Hope hes not the father. I cant believe my ears.
Thats my hope. Lisa seemed surprised.
Youre lying. You wanna convince me Im the dad!
Id love for you to be the dad.
But youre not sure. So Im your first choice because Im single? If the babys mine, I want it
aborted, and if its not mine, I want nothing to do with it, or with you. He leaned his face a little
closer nearing her personal space with a tilt of his body.
Youre an asshole.
So, if you did put a hole in the condom, it could be my child?
I told you all sorts of things can go wrong with a condom, especially with you being so well
endowed. She tried flattery, coaxing him.
If Im so well endowed, why did you need to go and fuck the other dude? How often exactly did
you sleep with him? He grimaced and let out a bitter laugh.
Aww, thats sweet! Youre all jealous and everything. Dont worry sweetie, he meant nothing to
me, I thought of you the whole time. Her eyebrows rose into sweet half hoops.
Jealous! I could kiss the guy for having stuck his dick into you, you deluded freak! Give me his

address, Ill send the poor bastard a gift basket! His underarms sweat.
You can laugh all you want, youre the father. Youre the father and Im not getting an abortion, so
keep the gift basket for yourself and get used to being called, Daddy!
Do you think this is fair? If Im the father, dont I have a say? He slammed a fist on the table.
Its not your body, its my body. Its not your egg that made the baby, its my egg. She patted her
tummy proudly.
Its your egg, but its my sperm! I get to have a say! He pointed toward his cock.
Ha! You squirt out three drops of jizz and you think it gives you rights over my body? She
sniggered.
Say what you want, without my three drops, theres no baby, so there! His jaw tightened.
You want your three drops back? There you can have them you useless bastard! She glared at him
and spat in his face.
Instead of infuriating him, her spitting in his face sobered him. He wiped it off with his sleeve. I
give up. He raised his arms in the air.
Im glad you realize its a sin, getting an abortion; finally you understand you must do the right
thing, the Christian thing.
So having an unwanted baby is the Christian thing? And what about fucking around with married
men? Then lying to me is that the Christian thing? Youre a hypocrite, thats what you are.
She shook her head stubbornly.
Committing adultery and cheating on the guy with whom youre committing adultery by fucking
with me! Youre a saint, really! No, youre Mother-fucking-Teresa!
Im keeping it, and you cant stop me.
Now you sound like a kid yourself. I know women lie, but did you lie about being on the pill? He
felt cornered.
Id never do that. I made a mistake. Honest, I forgot to take the pill. Lisa pouted.
His mouth felt parched and a bad taste spoiled inside his mouth, a rotten flavor. He got up and
walked to the kitchen, brewing some coffee. Through the kitchen door, as he stood in front of the
coffee maker, he could see her on the sofa, with her innocent air of an early Christian martyr.

But youd lie, wouldnt you? he said loudly.

She tried to reply but he cut her off.
You would lie trapping me, like you did already. You said you forgot to take your pill, but why
should I believe you? You lie and you cheat, and when you get caught, you just lie some more!
Again she objected, but he jumped directly into the middle of his next sentence.
Women lie all the time! The woman cries rape, and the guys thrown behind bars. The woman
cries domestic violence, and the judge slaps the guy with a restraining order! The woman says,
Youre the dad, and the guy pays child support for the rest of his life! He returned with the coffee.
Im not like that. I wouldnt do any of those things! She put her hands on her knees.
He knocked over a glass and it shattered at his feet. But you did do that! Youre making me the
father of a kid who probably isnt even mine. Why dont you go after the other guy and stick him with
a paternity suit!
But I keep telling you hes married!
So you come to me and unload this shit on me. You think you can somehow pin it to me, you can sit
on your ass for the rest of your life, and Ill work like a slave while you watch TV! Having a kid is a
career choice for women like you! His gut wrung.
Im not like that, Im not like that, she repeated.
Oh no? And whats the first thing you did when you found out you were pregnant? You dropped out
of school. Because you know where your next thousand paychecks are coming from! He tapped his
finger on his chest, repetitively.
Everyone else is having kids, I want one too. She jutted her chin.
Dont you see? Women shouldnt have kids when they cant afford to? He poured two more cups
of coffee and passed her one out of habit, without asking.
What do you expect from me? I just moved into this apartment. Im just starting my life. I cant
afford all the furnishings yet. He swung an arm around the room.
I know.
Dont expect my help pay for the kid.
Only if its yours?

Craig shook his head and looked away again. He pondered long. All right, all right, I accept you
made a mistake, but Jesus H. Christ! What now? Im trapped!
Im going to have the time of my life having this child, she said.
You got no job. You work at the 7-Eleven. You live with your mom. What are you thinking? He
shook his head.
Id like you as part of our family. Me, you, and our childdoesnt it sound good to you? Her
eyes twinkled.
Look, I dont like spending time with you and I dont fucking love you. I dont wanna live with
you. He dragged himself up from the couch and leaned on the opposite wall holding his coffee with
both hands. Shes making me ill. Im not the family man type of guy.
Youll learn to love me? Lisa flapped her eyelids.
Hell, no! I dont think so. Right now, I dont think I even like you, he said, sensing the wall
supporting his weakening body.
Oh, come on. She placed one hand on her tummy again.
I saw on the news today, it takes over $240,000 raising a child until its eighteenth birthday. Craig
patted the back pocket of his jeans, on top of his wallet.
God will provide, have some faith She put her hands together in prayer.
God has enough on his plate with the kids whore dying of hunger all over the world. He doesnt
need you assigning him homework on top of all that!
We can do it together. You can get a second job. she said, with a bubbly voice as if shed birthed
the best idea in the world, and, she added, That way, wed be a two-income family. I read
somewhere two-income families live very comfortably.
You think thats what it means? You think two-income families mean the guys working two jobs?!
Its two salaries? What does it matter who works as long as we get two salaries? Dont be petty.
Being a full-time mother is hard work, and if you want me taking care of your kid, you have to take
care of me. She kept smiling as if she had life completely figured out.
His mind sizzled into a dizzy spin; he didnt know which part of her insane plan of life he needed to
address first. I dont want you to take care of a kid, whos probably not my kid, and whom I dont
want anyway. I dont like working two jobs taking care of a woman who I dont want to be with just
so she can take care of a kid she cant afford having in the first place! He spoke too quickly with
too many words to say at once.

Exactly! she declared. Thats why we need to stick together as a family, for the sake of our baby,
and thats why you should get a second job.
So you got it all under control, hey? He lowered his voice and shook his head.
But this is what people do they live together and raise a family.
You dont own my fucking life!
Familys important.
Ill say this only one time more. I dont want a family with you! Spit flew out of his mouth.
Even still, Im excited. A deep glow flushed across her face. And also, Ill be a good mother.
Can you give a baby a better life than the one you have for yourself?
This is going to cost time, money, and . . . my life.
Naturally, I can.
Youre full of shit.
Well, what should I do? She sniffled.
Youll need to decide. You can get an abortion, give your baby up for adoption, or raise it on your
own. He came over and sat on the coffee table right in front of her and put his hands on her knees,
looking her deep in the eyes.
God, alright! I suppose, she cried.
Its not likely youll be able to work and do the whole mom thing. He sighed, and then said, So,
whats in a marriage for me?
Youre a horrible man. She turned pale and vexed.
Im a horrible man?
She nodded.
So its horrible I dont spend the rest of my life working my ass off for a woman I dont love and
who, lets face it, and doesnt love me either? We already established that you see me as a convenient
choice for a husband, and I see you, at best, as a good fuck. His arms dropped by his sides.
I hate you for saying that! She rose from the couch and walked slowly toward the door.

I agree! You hate me, so why would you want to share your life with me? He exhaled a long
breath.
Howd you become such a creep asshole?
Big fucking deal if Im an ass. Im sick of this shit, leave me alone! Craig jerked the door handle.
Dont get violent; Ill report you for domestic violence. She raised one hand while walking past
him through the doorway.
Fuck you! Report me for rape for all I care. Thats what you women do anyway, that would be one
more lie! If we find out Im the father, Ill be there and help pay for my child. Nothing more! He felt
like he had carved out a workable plan.
I pray Im not the Dad.
Well see. You havent heard the last of it.
Whatever! Go trap some other poor sucker into a lifetime of misery! Im done with you! He
slammed the door shut.
Months passed after their visit, and DNA tests established Craig was not the childs father. Thank
God, was all Craig could say as he let out a long exhale.

Today
Shaken to his core by Lisas pregnancy scare, Craig elected to get a vasectomy. He vowed to never
put himself in a situation like the one with Lisa ever again.
The close call he experienced brought the universe together, showing Craig another direction to
turn. He understood his freedom to do as he pleases is fully contingent on his ability to avoid
unwanted fatherhood.
Craig dates women, but is hell-bent against marriage, preferring to live his life in his own way.
Craig left teaching and entered the software engineering world, where, within months, his meager
salary tripled.
Over the years, Craig forged strong friendships from diverse backgrounds of friends from the Far
East across to the West, whom he considers family. Five of these close friends united together as
roommates, moving into a sensational Victorian flat, an arrangement suiting Craigs needs and
passions. It provides an astounding sense of bliss and of being home and where he belongs.
On monthly celebrations, the flat mates and friends prepare their favorite foods, exploring each
others cultural roots. Ginger beef from China, Philippine adobo, spaghetti, and all-American corn
dogs decorated the long oak table last month. Craig prepared baked beans on toast with black
pudding, and to his surprise, everyone appreciated the dish.
Making good money, several times a year Craig splurges, purchasing twelve front-row seats for the
Ann Arbor symphony, inviting his household and friends. Life is truly good, and he never worries
about whether he impregnates a woman or not when they have sex. He is in charge of his life, love,
and future.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Men: Use a condom 100% of the time.clxxvii
Men: If you accidentally impregnate her, your financial future is grim.clxxviii
2/3 of families by young single mothers remain in poverty.clxxix
1 out of every 3 newborns is unwanted, over 3 million/year.clxxx
Unwanted children suffer financially and have cognition problems.clxxxi
The average cost to raise one child is over 240,000 dollars. clxxxii
Men: Never raise another mans child. clxxxiii
Men: Never allow a woman to assign the child to you. clxxxiv
Men: Women will plan your entire future; protect yourself.clxxxv
Men: Your future is valuable; dont give it away to a woman. clxxxvi
Many women trick men into marriage or taking care of their child clxxxvii clxxxviii
Most women get ridiculously stupid and giddy over pregnancies.clxxxix
Women are unrealistic about raising a child and need help doing so.cxc
Men: Never trust womens birth control efforts; protect yourself.cxci
Some women forget to take birth control in order to birth a child. cxcii
Some women pretend to be pregnant to trap a man.
Women poke holes in condoms and resort to trapping tactics.cxciii
Some women lie in order to get men hooked on them and have families.cxciv
Women want kids; it is instinctual even if they cant afford them.cxcv
Men must pay for the mother and baby for a lifetime.
Women can get another man after divorce, while the EX continues to pay.
Men: If you get her pregnant, she will hold you hostage for life. cxcvi
Men are misused and asked to sacrifice by pregnant women.cxcvii
6 % of all rapes filed yearly are falsely claimed against men.cxcviii
9% of child molestations are falsely claimed against men.cxcix
Most women are not whole until they have a child.cc cci

Many women ignore abortion, expecting others to pay everything.ccii

Men are left out of all the birthing decisions except to pay for it all.cciii
Men can define a family in their own way not requiring marriage.cciv
Men: You must protect yourself from impregnating a woman.ccv
Many women try to inflict pain on the men when scorned or cheated on.ccvi

Chapter 10
Monogamy Sucks
Thirty-four year old, Professor Tom Peterson swiped a sweat bead from his forehead. (Breathe.)
He sped down the freeway, away from his Burlingame condo. (Breathe.) He felt frustrated about
having been delayed by Shirley. (Breathe.) She wanted to spend more time eating out with him, and
for him not to work so much on his lecture. (Breathe.) His hand grazed his untidy eyebrows as he
half-trotted across campus. (Breathe.) Misfortune crackled on the horizon. (Breathe.) He was running
late for his speech at USFs Malloy Hall. (Breathe.) His cell phone vibrated. (Breathe.) A text from
Mother requested Toms attendance at tomorrows Denver funeral.
Tom imagined his frail mother holding his father as he gasped for his last breath. His chest deflated
and her face wrenched. Tom breathed in discombobulating air, tormenting himself. His last visit to his
Denver home, since moving to the San Francisco Bay area, was over twelve years ago.
Oh, shit.
Memories of Father weighed inside his gut. Toms eyes misted as he texted his mom a confirmation
message. Walking toward the lecture hall, he made a mental note to tell Shirley about the Denver trip.
He felt warm for a moment, envisioning Shirleys fine-featured porcelain face, and her deep green
eyes that sparkled with mystery. At ten years his junior, Shirley was always meek, quiet, and sweet.
Shirleys habit of wearing tight sweaters and short skirts had set his heart soaring the first time theyd
met. The moment their eyes connected, the intensity of zapping human urges coupled them. Tom
moved closer, beaming. Both took savoring breaths as they introduced themselves. She specialized in
cooking and worked as a professional organizer. The attraction that brought them together felt so
perfect to Tom.
Good morning, Professor Peterson, a female student said, smiling as she strode down the steps of
the lecture hall.
Campus legend cast Tom as popular, especially with females. Tom squinted at her through moist
eyes, and blood rushed to his groin.
Good morning. He lunged up the modern steps. The dangerous aroma of a freshly showered
eighteen-year-old penetrated his nostrils. He hurried through the glass doors and trotted under the high
entry arch.
Heading inside the lecture room, he made his way down the aisle. Doing a quick survey, he glancecounted more than sixty students and noted his regular students filling the front rows sitting like fans at
a concert. In the darkened corners were newer faces, some likely to drop out by the semesters end.

Within a mini-second, he had identified both the most highly achieved student and the troublemaker.
Hi Tom, erProfessor, said a black-haired female with a smile and a low voice.
Tom recognized the warm come-on. Good morning, Betty, is it? He paused. Of course he knew
her, the flat chest and olive skin. Destined for high scholarly achievements, Betty didnt need to
exchange sexual favors for grades.
Yes, Im Betty, here for todays lecture, Professor, her eyes batted in exaggerated moves. Im
your Asian persuasion from Pattaya, Thailand. Her mascaraed wink wormed lust inside Toms gut.
Hi Betty, yes. He stepped forward, drinking in her thin hips and long legs as a surge of adrenaline
pumped inside him. Betty was fine and Shirley was perfect he thought to himself.
You know I like you, Betty cocked her hip to one side in order to adjust her books and large
purse-like carrying bag.
Of course I know, but sorry, Im running late. Lecture begins in a minute and I hope you enjoy it,
he breathed, and moved on, feeling another familiar groin urge. A male student dressed like a jock
winked at Tom and tucked a hand in his jeans, one finger pointed towards his crotch area.
Like the consummate professional, Tom traversed to the end of the room platform, placed his laptop
on the lectern, wrung one hand on his wristwatch and looked at its face, noting the time. He patted the
right-hand pocket of his tweed jacket, checking for his keys. Completely at home, observing the
audience, he mastered control of his breathing and snagged Bettys wide, dark eyes, which
momentarily landed his attention.
Good luck, her lipstick-perfect mouth whispered.
Tom widened his stance, sensing the strain of his fathers death. Hed invested so much time and
personal passion in todays lecture. He pushed aside the feelings, smoothly flicked his computer on,
and mouse-clicked the slide show, illuminating the screen. An electric zing spun inside his stomach as
the ten-foot monitor blazoned his inspired words and graphics. Pushing back his rust-brown hair, he
straightened himself into the stance of a respectable professor before taking a deep, preparatory
breath.
Good morning. This is USFs Arts and Humanities Lecture Number Twenty-Seven, by me,
Professor Tom Peterson. If youre not here for lecture, please feel free to leave now. His
authoritative voice commanded attention as he let his gaze catch the eye of every student, and recalled
their names. He stood firm, in a light blue shirt and dark slacks, his brown tweed jacket accented with
elbow patches. As he surveyed the gallery, one student left. All right. Today, were covering a
subject mankind has pondered since the beginning of time. It may be the most valuable resource on
our planet: human ingenuity and the act of creation. Tom noticed alert faces and began the lecture
with his graphics and bullet points in the PowerPoint.

DECLARATION OF INGENUITY AND CREATIVITY

Creativity one: Creating family and children
All of us have experienced the need to create and fulfill biological needs. These desires lure
us every moment; some of us get these urges more often than others. All of us are products of
family traditions and we habitually marry without giving it much thought. We marry because its
the life path expected of most of us. The media usually portrays the family unit as a wholesome
ideal, satisfying natures needs with little downside, but there are disadvantages. That downside
is nurturing a family will demand great effort and time.
The parents role in a new family will take a lifelong devotion and can easily remove the
search of other undertakings. Before becoming parents, few of us consider the impact and
drawbacks of making this choice. The lifestyle can look like enslavement. When unplanned
Pregnancies occur; more problems come toward the parents. With unexpected pregnancies there
will be unplanned conditions and increases in the financial struggle to support the child(s).
A never ending need for money can force family members to work hard at any job just to
support the day-to-day needs for food, shelter, and clothing. Some men are so busy working that
they dont have the time to enjoy their own families.
Today, traditional marriage and family ideals are changing in order to provide alternative
choices. The old model, where the male is the sole provider has lost momentum. And as proven
by the growing addition of same-sex couples in the body of marriage more changes are on the
way.
There is a rising movement of men who are turning away from marriage as an ideal lifestyle.
These men see few benefits in the marital relationship, and have chosen to reject it.
Okay, then. Tom paused, looking at his audience and noting a few angry faces. Raise your hand
if you plan to have a family. He recalled his father, who had worked two jobs to provide for Tom,
his two sisters, and his mother. Tom took a refreshing breath, knowing he avoided that kind of
bondage in his life. He gazed at the intent student audience, who clearly connected with the lecture
material.
Some of the students held up their hands and nodded.
Any questions so far?
A female student raised her hand and Tom pointed. He recognized Jennifer, an easygoing student
who contributed often.
Havent men avoided marriage commitment for a long time? So is this new?
Jennifer, in your life, do you see men avoiding marriage? He placed one hand inside his coat

pocket.
Sure, but most of the men I know are pretty young and I wouldnt expect them to want marriage
yet.
Yes, thats true. Usually men are not as directed towards marriage as women might be. Today there
are growing numbers of men who want to go their own way in life. It is a new movement.
Do they prefer men, or living alone? Jennifers brows rose.
Do you see changes in womens lifestyles? Tom pulled his hand out of his coat pocket and
gestured toward Jennifer.
Jennifer thought for a moment. I guess I see more independent women and single women raising
children without a man.
And men are changing, too, Tom concluded.
But isnt having a family the goal for all of us? another student asked.
Men now say the marriage laws work against them. Tom sensed stiffness in his neck and turned
his head to one side to stretch the muscles and ligaments.
One student turned to her neighbor and whispered, What bullshit!
Tom heard the whisper, but chose to ignore it. The point of this lecture is that there are goals
beyond marriage. There are obstacles to climb, beyond the marriage mountain. We have loftier
choices in front of us.
The hall went quiet.
Lets continue. He turned his attention to the PowerPoint and returned to the speech.
Creativity two: Inventing a better tomorrow
Our world expands because people continue to cross new frontiers. These people unshackle
societal chains and pioneer dramatic changes, leading to new innovations. History is full of
ingenuity in areas like electricity, steel, tunnels, railroads, medical cures, and skyscrapers; all
visualized and built by people with pioneering spirits. These creative people claim it is a
privilege to change our world into the world that is yet to come, and that it is emotionally
gratifying.
Not everyone invokes their creative capabilities, yet each of us possesses the ability. Today, in
this lecture, youll learn how to invoke the ingenuity of your own creativity.

The Romans believed creative musings were spiritually inspired, and historically, creative
feats were thought to come from heaven.
In fact, Your own mind is the engine of invention and can be directed to create. Every one of us
can create, given the ingredients of time and intention. The following step-by-step outline will
allow your mind to create.
STEPS TO CREATE:
Step 1: Creation begins with wanting or intending something and taking time to work on it.
First, determine to act or think in a certain way, and FOCUS your minds intention on a small part
of thIS idea.
Step 2: Purposely consider this small spark of an idea and let it increase in size and weight.
Spend an interval of time dreaming and pondering, allowing the spark to collect more thoughts.
With more time, the original idea will grow, like a snowball rolling down a snow-covered hill; it
will accumulate volume. Let the brain act as if it is putting a puzzle together; assemble pieces of
information. Let your mind conduct accretion, allowing bits of data to be pushed into place,
creating a mind space for your idea.
Step 3: Let this mind space, or location in your minds eye, examine memories and
experiences; objects and situations. Allow these concepts time to churn around and TO attach to
the original intention. Utilize more time and incorporate colors, shapes, and sounds, as well as
the books youve read, the food youve tasted, and the clothes youve tried on. Everything within
your lived experience will begin to appear alongside the idea. The mind space will fasten pieces
of the puzzle together and gain mass. After allowing them to grow, let all these designs merge
into a single entity.
Step 4: Given still more time and intention, the mind will start to crave input. It will seek new
information by reading, checking out, and testing fresh notions, as if they are objects being
manipulated in the head. BY Questioning, probing, and examining, the mind will build upon what
exists.
Step 5: once The idea is fairly large, let the brain evaluate all information input. the brain will
reject some, and WILL accept and enhance others. This assessment process takes over using
judgment to differentiate solid ideas from weak ones. A flaky idea will fall away. The mind will
discriminate, and a concrete concept will evolve. The original scratch of an idea will mature into
a tangible concept.
This is the process of all creation for mankind. I hope you will put it to good use.
Any questions? Tom asked.
Are you saying people have to choose between two life paths, one of family or one of creative
endeavor?

Are you trying to decide between these paths?

I think I am, and I keep thinking about having children. Its always been in me to want kids, so are
you saying we should avoid making a family?
Not exactly, but Im saying a creative role requires dedicated time.
So we need to decide?
Tom knew that was true for him, so he always used condoms when having sex. No kids for him,
hed already decided. That depends on the two people involved. Its an individual choice, as well as
decision to be made by both partners. A person who creates will need time from his or her partner. I
have some quotes here, which support this claim.
I know I want children one day, does that mean I cant also help build our future?
What future are you creating for yourself? He asked.
Do you mean women are discriminated against?
Yes, they are. Let me explain further, by looking deeper into famous quotes by people who helped
create great things.
QUOTES FROM FAMOUS INVENTORS
The first requisite for success is to develop the ability to timely focus and apply your
mental and physical energies to the problem at handwithout growing weary. Thomas
Edison
Work fills a large part of our life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you
believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you havent
found it yet, keep looking. Steve Jobs
When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of
fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract, positive thinking. Albert Einstein
The spread of civilization may be likened to a fire; First, a feeble spark, next a flickering
flame, then a mighty blaze, ever increasing in speed and power. Nikola Tesla

Another hand shot into the air.

Yes, Tom pointed to the student he recognized as Rinki Ortease. She had short, pink hair spiked

like a boys cut and was well-known on campus as a radical feminist. Tom knew she once started
fires in campus trash cans as part of a protest she attended.
Why are all your examples about men? Rinki questioned, her hands turned up in exasperation.
Good question. To the ladies in the room, I dont want to offend you, but our history books are full
of men who have created and built our civilization. Sensing a twinge of heat inside his chest, he
briefly closed his eyes and made a mental note to improve the lecture.
So where are the women in your examples? Rinki jumped in.
Traditionally, men were the breadwinners and worked long hours to support the family, but some
of these men, such as Isaac Newton and Nikola Tesla, never took on a wife and family. He turned his
torso away from the student, as if shielding his heart.
Were Isaac Newton and Nikola Tesla loners?
Isnt it true that each of us our doors and spend time alone in order to generate a paper or
project? Cords pulled in his neck, as he became keenly aware that he needed to balance and adjust
the lecture.
What about Madame Curie? Arent you being a little misogynistic? a student asked, scooting
forward in her seat.
His stomach looped while he explained. In the past, women took care of the family. Also,
traditionally, men did the heavy lifting on job sites. There are still few women performing jobs that
require hard labor or health risks, such as working on oil rigs and mining coal.
Not all women are that way! Rinkis short pink hair wobbled as she shook one arm.
Thats right, a male voice chimed in.
What the hell, someone murmured.
No, no, no, thats notnot all womenno, I didnt say or mean that, Tom took one step back. He
wrung his watch a half turn and patted his right coat pocket, feeling the weight of his key ring.
A hand shot into the air, Where are the women builders today?
Yeah, two other voices joined in.
Do you think there are any women working eight hundred feet below Manhattan, drilling a new
freshwater tunnel? Are there women under the Bay Area right now, digging the new BART channels?
Men have always been the heavy lifters when it comes to creating a great world! Toms brain
steamed, and for the first time he felt a deep hatred for the women of today, who lived off mens
labors. He paced in a tight circle.

What the?
Tom looked at the floor, to avoid making eye contact. His stance wavered. He saw the students
blank faces and felt hed let them down. Are there any women here who are builders or hard
laborers?
Ohhh, someone moaned. No one raised their hand.
There are loads of women writers! You sound like an ass! Rinki tossed her hand with a
downward thrust, as if tossing a ball.
Im not saying women havent been there for our civilization, but men built America.
If it werent for women, thered be no men!
Youre right, lookIm saying if a woman spends time to create, she can be a great inventor, but
often women prioritize relationships ahead of all else. His posture stiffened and he rubbed his brow
to lessen his growing headache.
Thats sexist bullshit! He heard another whisper between friends.
Hold on a minute. Just stay with me. His eyes tightened. He scrubbed one hand over his sweatbeaded forehead, and then flicked the projector off. Im not a woman hater, he managed a grin,
remembering all the hard labor his father had done to provide for Tom and the rest of the family. Dad
worked on the Interstate Highway system as a cement laborer and helped to build the Interstate travel
experience most people take for granted. God, he loved his dad.
Tom paused, and carefully controlled his voice. Ill investigate and make some changes to this
lecture. Ill add more examples of women in history who helped to build our civilization. Thank you.
He hoped the tenure committee would never hear about todays lecture trial run. He saw the official
denial letter in his hands and felt a deep sinking in his stomach.
The lecture had ended with a thud and a nagging need to change something in the script. While
walking out of the hall, Betty waved and called, Great lecture, Prof!
Tom waved back. He thought about changing the samples to include some women, if only to protect
his shot at tenure, and to calm the students reaction. Walking past, another student stopped him.
Sorry, but Im dropping your class.
Im sorry to hear that. Tom said, knowing that as his Holy Grail of a tenure-track job neared
review, a written complaint, or even just a rumor, would thwart the image, of the dedicated professor
wreathed in outstanding achievements of true distinction that he wished to present to the department
chair.

Toms heart was pounding. The response from the students rang inside his head and made his arms
and legs shake. His body didnt relax until he walked through the door to his Burlingame condo. As
he lowered his butt onto his favorite soft chair, the phone rang.
Hello.
Hi Tom, this is Shirley. Her quiet voice warmed his chest.
Yes. I am back from a lecture, andum, it didnt go as I expected. His tone was low. One
student called me a misogynist, he sighed, leaning back in the chair.
Im sorry about the lecture. Youll fix things, sweetie, she oozed.
He scratched his forehead. Some statements rubbed a few students the wrong way.
Can you repair the lecture? Like, make it better? Her voice signaled sweetness and support.
Im already working on some changes here and there. How are you?
I went to the second-hand store today and bought you a suit coat. Its perfect for you to wear to
work.
You didnt need to do that.
It was a steal at forty dollars.
Thank you Shirley I do like how you take of me like this.
Ill bring the coat over the next time I drop in but I wanted to know if Diana is going to Denver
with you. Shirleys tone had become a little snobby.
Tom pictured Diana as a child, back in Denver. Absorbed in play, she would scurry through the
living room, crawling over and under the humongous overstuffed sofas. Inside the old, rambling
house, the maze-like corridors and vestibules had provided cover during a few naughty games of
doctor. Diana tied her long, brown hair into a ponytail and wore fake glasses poised on her long nose.
She pretended to take Toms temperature, and gave him invisible injections of medical cures.
Yes, she is. I told you about this trip two days ago and you agreed that youd stay here. Tom said.
Ive changed my mind. I dont want you spending time with that bitch. Shirley barked.
He rested an elbow on the chair arm and leaned his head on his palm. A memory flashed in his
mind: his first sexual experience at the age of fifteen, with Diana. That was when they became
sweethearts. Why would you call Diana a bitch? She is a childhood friend of mine.
I know, but she is a bitch, and a fat bitch at that! Shirleys voice pierced Toms ear.

Why are you attacking her?

I dont like her.
Why?
Shes probably whore, too.
You started this call sounding nice, but now youre sounding mean. Can you settle down? Why are
you being so mean?
Oh Tom, I just hate her. You dont know how hard this is for me. If everyone knew how you cheat
on women, they would all know that misogynist comment is so true and hurtful. Her syrupy voice
filled with pretend pain.
Do you think I cheat all the time?
I am sure you cheat, and I hate it.
Shirley, you should read Release your Anger by Ronald Potter-Efron. Have you heard of that
book? You might want to control your hatred for other women. He rubbed his palmed face with one
finger near his eye.
I dont hate other women, Im justhurt, she sniffled, as if she was about to cry.
Dont start crying now.
I hate women who you have sex, her voice trembled with congestion.
Is that why youre showing this jealousy and anger? Tom calmly asked.
Its because I love you! Her voice grated through, clear and earnest, making Toms stomach
contract.
Weve been seeing each other for two months. How can that be love? Tom lifted his head off his
palm and stiffened his neck.
If you loved me, youd stay away from that Diana.
Shirley, please dont make demands like that. You cant use emotions to hold me hostage.
What do you mean hostage?
Dont use love emotions in order to manipulate me.

Manipulatehuh?
You know what youre doing.
Im not holding you hostage or manipulating you. I want to be with you. I mean marriage. Tom
could hear that she was pouting, like a spoiled teenager.
Ive never mentioned marriage to you.
All men marry for happiness.
Youre using love and marriage to make me act in a certain way. Thats holding me hostage. And it
feels like youre shaming me. Dont you want more out of life?
More? Any other man would do this for the woman he is dating, her voice rasped.
So because other men do this, I should save you, too, like a knight on my white horse?
Thats love.
Were not lovers. We arent exclusive, or officially boyfriend and girlfriend, Toms back
stiffened.
What the hell are we? I want more!
Were dating. Not to be selfish, but so far, I dont see what marriage holds for me.
But I want us to be the only two in your life. Wholl take care of your home?
Me. Or a housekeeper.
But who will keep your life organized, and cook your meals?
Me.
Listen Shirley, to be honest my salary isnt enough to support a marriage. Where would we
live?
Well, I see tell me thenhas our time together been a nice habit? she asked, with sugar spilled
on the words.
There are other habits you could have, other than chasing this professor, he laughed.
Thats not funny. My habit right now is to keep you from Diana the slut! she shouted.

Dianas a great childhood friend. Weve known each other a long time. Shirley, try reading some
of Peggy Vaughans books. They could enlighten you. His fondness for Shirley tickled up his spine
and he enjoyed the feeling. He said nothing more, because he feared that if Shirley could sense his
warmed-up feelings for her, it would make her think he loved her and was fully committed to her.
Dianas trying to get between us. I want you to be with me all the time, she whined.
You want to be with me all the time? Are you serious? His brow arched. Although he sometimes
grew tired of how Shirley made attempts to control him with shame and jealous demands, he liked
her.
Yes. I deserve that, dont I?
Listen, Shirley, no one on earth spends all their time with another person. His brows furrowed.
I deserve all my mans attention. All of it!
Whered you get that idea? He scrubbed two fingers across his hair.
My mother. I guess I thought that was love? Shirleys voice sounded matter-of-fact.
Dont you think wed get sick of each another? And I wish youd stop using the love word.
God no, I could neverI love you and want to have your child, her voice wormed bugs under
Toms skin.
Oh brother, there you go again! Youre not having my child. I cant afford children. I know Im
older, but youre sounding like a one-year-old who needs her mothers endless attention. He flicked
a piece of lint off his pant leg.
Were having sex, right?
Shirley, dont confuse sex for love, he paced in a three-foot-wide circle.
But you said you liked me, and I want you, her voice sang.
Shirley, pleaseIm sorry but were not even living together. Please dont cling so much. I wish
youd find yourself in this life. He exhaled and wished hed never said he liked her, even though
hed grown closer to her. The question is whether I can convert some of her old fashioned ideas, he
thought. Im glad I never said I loved her, not even while fucking her.
Ill take a flight out tomorrow so I can be with you, her voice challenged.
Please dont!

II deserve to be with you, her voice splintered.

Seriously, you dont know my family. Its my dads funeral, so theres no reason to join me. Tom
spoke in a soft but firm voice, and tugged at his shirt.
But you need me. This is why people call you a misogynist. Shirleys voice was shrill with
jumping iterations.
Im sorry, but I dont have the same feelings youre talking about. I need to be with my mother
now. He widened his stance and his muscles relaxed.
Dont be an ass. Arent I part of your family? she raised her voice this time.
Shirley, I need to go now. Ive no time for this. Im going to grieve my father, he took two steps
forward and rubbed his thumb against his forefinger.
This isnt love! Her voice sent a pain inside Toms ear.
Didnt I just ask you not to use the word love? he said, like it was witty commentary.
But I really love you, her voice squirmed.
Shirley, I want you to read a book titled The Ethical Slut, he paced his voice, as if teaching a
child not to touch the hot stove.
What for? Im not a slut! Her angry voice rattled Tom.
No, youre not, its not that, but Id like you to study different relationships available to us so we
can discuss this again later, his voice remained calm and logical.
I can come over and organize your office and kitchen while youre away.
I know youre a professional organizer but Im a professor and I like things messy.
Well she stammered.
We have things to talk about. Later. Tom brought his voice down.
Oh, okay then. I guess I can stay busy while youre gone, she said in an upbeat voice.
Sure you can, and well talk when I return, his voice was closing the discussion.
Okay, Tom! I cant wait.
All right. When I get back, things will be fine. Goodbye. He hung up the phone.

Her innocence was pulling at his heart. He left a message for the Dean before shuffling into his
bedroom and climbing into bed. Enveloped in pillows, he wished for a long sleep. His mind spun
back to the day Cody, his collie, gave birth to seven young pups. They were so small and had their
eyes closed. The tiny squealing sounds they made had lifted Toms heart. His dad reached into the
little box where the pups lay and pulled them, one at a time, from their whimpering, angry mom. Each
time Dads hand neared another helpless puppy; Cody lowered her head, showed her teeth, growled
and cringed in terror. Tom winced inwardly as Cody uttered long, quiet moans and shivered. One at a
time, Dad dropped the wiggling pups into a paper bag, and took Tom with him to the South Platte
River Bridge.
Dad dropped the bag over the side of the bridge and drowned the newborns. We cant afford
feeding any more dogs, son, Im sorry.
Tears came to Toms sleepy eyes. The rest of his night was quiet until the early foggy air woke him.
That morning, Tom and Diana flew to Denver and grabbed a rental car. Raindrops pelted the
windshield as Diana drove to their old neighborhood. Sure is colder here in Denver than at home
near San Francisco.
Tom winced as he felt Diana squeeze his palm. Tom, Im sorry, but we have to hurry. Everyone
else is probably already at your mothers house.
I feel so sick about this. My stomach is twisted in a knot. Tom rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
I know your father loved you, she said, leaning over and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Tom lowered his head and felt his stomach roll, I think he did. And I loved him.
You were his little boy.
I was just daydreaming about how I wanted to be just like him. Tears welled. When Im with
you I feel free to express my emotions.
Youve done well. Im sure he was proud of you. I mean look, youre a professor at the University
of San Francisco. She lifted one palm up and placed it back on the wheel.
I know. Im the cool professor, he made slow air quotes.
Youve grown into your career. And youre popular with the young students, both boys and girls.
Oh sure, Im always getting into trouble with the freshmen, he shook his head.
Im sure if you dad was here he would be impressed. If he could only see you now, her eyes
opened wide.

Yes, I miss him, too. Toms head sunk and shoulders curved. I wish he had told me he was proud
of what Id become. His chest weighted inwards. He gazed out the window and saw the old Dairy
Queen where he would buy cones and shakes. He always walked by himself unless Diana was around
to join him. Remember going to the DQ? Memories shuttled in and out causing fogged over
thoughts.
Yes, that was fun. Well be there soon, Diana whispered.
Hed be honored to see me get tenure. Dad is going to miss the biggest moment of my career. You
know, I had it all planned out. I was going to take him deer hunting. Wed be resting at the top of a
hill, with cups of coffee from the Thermos he always carried along on these excursions, and Id
surprise him with the tenure. I could picture the grin on his face Toms gut dropped and the dream
vanished into dead space. He placed a hand on his stomach, realizing that day would never happen.
Youre gonna be all right, arent you?
Sure. Thanks for helping and understanding, as you always have. The inside of his chest felt
hollow.
Ill get us there safely, okay?
I had plans for my dad and me. Now Ill never his voice trailed off.
I know, I know, Dianas voice soothed.
His cell phone vibrated, interrupting his thoughts. He reached into his pants pocket and snuck a
peek. Oh, Shirleys calling.
Have you had a chance to tell her yet? Diana raised her chin, and turned the wheel.
I really like her, but right now shes getting so deep. I try to explain well talk soon, maybe
sometime next week. Tom frowned, pursed his lips, and rejected the call. The phone went quiet.
She still wants to move in with you? Diana took a quick glimpse at Tom.
And more than that. I like her homespun ways. And Im falling for her, too. He frowned.
Falling in love? You? Diana laughed.
Well not love, he shrugged.
Shell be disappointed, Diana scrunched her brows and looked down the roadway.
But she might be able to move through these feelings, like my mom, who ignored my dads
disappearances. Tom knew about his fathers hour-long visits to East Colfax Avenue, the

streetwalker section of Denver. Tom had visited the seedy area once himself.
She might mature, but right now shes clinging, like shes reaching for a life preserver, Diana
said, tapping a finger on the wheel.
They came upon two trampled acres at Club Circle, on the seedy south side of Denver, and pulled
up to the curb.
There it is the same old beat-down place. Only the trees are a little taller. Memories of his
childhood came flooding back. He remembered his dad coming home from long days working
outdoors, with thick dirt and cement crud caked on his boots. Dad worked so hard.
The overcast sky added to the gloom sinking in Toms gut. His mother, Helen, was standing at
attention at the front door. As the couple approached her, Helen extended a wraithlike hand to Diana
before swooping upon Tom. Oh, I see you imposed upon Diana to bring you along.
Toms single status was a constant sore subject between them.
Hi Mom, yes. Diana came along, Toms voice cracked as he accepted a welcoming hug from
Helen.
Tom, honey welcome.
Her whole-hearted hug squeezed a few tears out of his wet eyes. I wish Id visited more often, he
managed, with an ache in the back of his throat.
Son, Im so happy you made it, Helen patted his back.
So good to see you again. How are you doing, Mom? He buried his face in her shoulder, feeling
like a young boy being nurtured for the moment.
Im okay. Your dad was the love of my life. I miss him. The embrace ended and she lifted a
hankie to her nose.
I miss him, too. He made me what I am today, Toms voice hitched as he shook.
You look so much like him. So handsome. Youll make someone very happy someday. Helens
eyes glistened with tears.
I hope I made him proud. Tom looked forward into the house, almost without seeing, and wished
time would speed up.
Oh, of course, you sure did. He talked about you all the time to his friends, Helen wrapped her
arm around his shoulder and embraced twice.

Thanks. I know, Mom, he sniffled, feeling alone in the moment.

Tom Ill be fine. Itll take time. His mom looked down.
Look at me Im middle-aged, and crying like a nine-year-old. He lifted his moms head up with a
finger under her chin.
Youre crying because you miss your father, her lips pursed.
I do miss him. Ill be okay, too, he rubbed his nose.
Well, tell meare you working on grandkids for me?
Oh, Mother. He considered telling her about Shirley and how he liked her. Then he decided
against it. You know Im not going for that, I have higher goals in mind.
Theres nothing higher than family and God.
Yes, Mom. Youve always said that. I need to spend a lot of time of my work and projects. That
makes it hard to be married. Tom patted her forearm.
You know, I let your dad wander once in a while. I didnt mind. Her head moved left and right,
and a big smile appeared.
You mean his cheating? Whys that?
Like you just said, there are bigger things to worry about. He always dreamed of doing big things.
I think the family held him back, you know. We never had much extra money. She looked at her feet
for a moment.
I understand, Mom. He needed an outlet.
Most women pretend everything is perfect at home, because it makes their friends pea-soup green
with envy. Helen laughed.
Ah yes, the fable of monogamy, protect and pretend, Diana said.
Monogamy sucks. Helen boomed a fun laugh. And it was just once in a while and not a big deal.
Son, I always hoped youd do something great. Come in, everyone is here. Helen slipped her arm
through his and led him inside. Diana followed.
After the short gathering and sermon, Tom twisted his wristwatch a half-turn and patted his coat
pocket. The crowd grew thin, the Reverends departure having signaled the all-clear. He grabbed
Helen for a long, warm, goodbye hug. I love you, Mom.

Tom quietly mingled with old family and friends. Even when he recognized a name, he simply
embraced. He loved the feeling of others who knew and loved his dad. After he met and embraced
everyone, twenty minutes had ticked by and his body weighed down with fatigue.
Are you ready to go, Diana? Ive booked a suite at the Four Seasons.
Yes, lets go.
Driving towards the hotel, Tom felt his spirit drop. The rush and hurry of the past two days came to
a holding pattern at thirty thousand feet. No thoughts, just grey-clouded dreams, wavered in and out of
Toms entire body and mind as Diana drove, parked, and signed the couple into the hotel.
What a relief, but Im spent, Tom said, flopping onto the bed.
Have a drink. Diana grabbed a mini-bottle of wine from the room fridge. She opened the bottle
and poured some wine into a plastic cup.
Drink to hide the pain, he said and smiled.
I know, old friend. Diana pressed close.
Im exhausted. He put an arm around Diana and exhaled, letting his chest ease. He swallowed a
gulp of wine.
Its been a long day, let me help you relax. She moved her hands to his shoulders and slowly
caressed his muscles, working into the deep tissue to erase the days pain. He lay on his back. She
hung over him as he nibbled at her mouth, toying with the waistband of her shorts.
His eyes closed and a tear squeezed from the lids. He let all the agony escape with each admiring
movement Diana made.
Tom groaned.
Diana let her hands slide down over his broad chest, her fingers mapping the planes of his muscles
all the way to the clasp of his pants. She opened them and reached inside. Her mouth nipped along his
neckline. She sat atop him, rocking gently. Soon they melted together, sharing climactic waves before
drifting off to sleep.
After spending a few days helping Helen navigate the painful process of clearing out her husbands
belongings, Tom and Diana headed back to San Francisco. Before they landed at SFO, Tom woke
from a nap and gazed out the window in time to catch a view of the city he loved. The tall pyramid
building and hazed over Golden Gate sent warmness in his chest. As he and Diana retrieved their
luggage at baggage claim, Toms guilt-laden feelings surfaced. Determined to resume his normal life,
he steered his thoughts away from the evening spent with Diana.
Hi! Shirley waved and stepped quickly toward Tom.

Hello, Shirley, he said, throwing his arms open to hug her.

Oh hi, Diana. Shirley scanned Diana critically. So did you share a hotel room with my
boyfriend? Her nose wrinkled.
Erwell, as a matter of fact, I did. Diana shrugged and looked at Tom.
What the hell! Shirley frowned and her chin trembled. Her tearing eyes attacked Tom like black
bullets.
Listen a minute, Shirley, dont be angry. You know professors dont make a lot of money. We both
need to save, so we shared the costs. His hand moved forward, palm toward her shoulder.
So you did hook up with that slut? Shirley nodded towards Diana with a pinched expression.
Slut? Diana quipped. Youre a very attractive girl, but your attitude stinks.
Shirley, I hope you read the books I mentioned last week. Tom paused to look deep into Shirleys
eyes. He hoped to see changes, but saw none yet.
I was too sick thinking of you to read anything, she swiped her hand aside and her muscles
tightened.
You should do what the teacher asks, Diana rubbed one finger over her other, pointing at Shirley.
Im not talking to you! Shirley jutted her chin, clenching her teeth and slanted her body away from
Diana.
Thats exactly why I asked you to read them. Theyll help you to feel better, Tom flipped his
wrist, gave his watch a half-turn, and tapped the right-hand pocket of his coat.
About what? Im a good religious girl. Shirley put a hand on her hip.
Feel better about us. Ill tell you how corrupt and wicked your religious heroes were some other
time, he placed his palm on his heart.
Wicked? What?
You know, so we can get along better and grow. We can talk about the Bibles polygamists later.
His fondness for her was written all over his face.
Well, okay, but if I find out that you cheated on me, Ill be going to your funeral! Shirley wagged
a finger.
Lets get going. Im tired. Ill see you soon, Diana, Tom said. He and Shirley headed towards the
parking area and Diana went her own way.

After fifteen minutes they neared Toms condo. Weary, and not up for heavy lifting, Tom dropped
Shirley off at her apartment.
Within two days, Tom and Shirley had fallen back into their routine. Tom continued honing his craft
to perfection, preparing lectures, working on curriculum development, and writing scholarly articles.
A few nights a week Shirley dropped in. Tonight she prepared rib eye steaks and asparagus.
Tonight Tom was pushing to finish his latest article. Shirley entered his study sizzling steak on a
plate and utensils in hand.
Thank you Shirley. I appreciate this. Have a seat and eat with me.
Sure, she brought her plate and placed in on a TV tray.
Tom and Shirley ate quietly a few moments. This is good, Tom said.
Youve been distant again lately, she easily moved her plate near.
Im working on this NCA article. Its going to publication in two weeks. Tom adjusted his
wristwatch and went back to work.
Youre so busy.
He looked up at her. Im going to finish this up, okay?
Okay. Mind if I sit here and eat a bit and watch?
Sure, but Ive got to get this done, he pushed the last of his steak into his mouth and pushed a few
papers aside and resumed clicking away at the keyboard.
Five minutes of eating passed before Shirley spoke up again, Is that the article for Text and
Performance?
Yes it is. Listen, I cant concentrate with you sitting there, Tom smiled and winked. How about
you take some time by yourself?
Shirley finished eating and thought for a moment, Well, okay, but first can I ask you something?
Okay, shoot, but make it quick.
I heard a rumor while you were out of town
Im a professor; therell always be rumors about me. He laughed.

Well, are you seeing someone in your class? She pulled her arms around her chest. Her cheeks
puffed and sagged.
Shirley, I dont have time for one of those long woman talks right now, he glanced at her.
I heard youre having an affair with a student bitch! Shirley glared at Tom.
He felt the heat of her gaze. Well, thats a serious accusation. You know Im up for tenure any day
now and I dont want rumors screwing that up.
So if I start a rumor, youll stop cheating?
We should talk later. I wouldnt say Im cheating. Im open.
No, you commit to me or Ill spread rumors. Youll never be respected again, she pointed a
finger.
Now youre sounding vindictive.
I went to Bible school when I was ten and learned cheating isnt the Christian thing, is it?
Dont talk to me about religion. It takes more than Bible school to understand religion.
Why? Because you know that cheatings a sin?
But you must realize according to the Bible were cheating too?
Hell no.
Hell yes. Look, Id rather not talk now, he said, hitting the Enter key with a hard clack.
Im gonna tell!
I dont want rumors raging while my tenure is under review. I have no idea what the review team
might think, okay? He crumpled a paper in one hand and tossed it into the wastebasket.
If you really like me, youll stop cheating.
Are you trying to change my behavior by threats of extortion?
Wellyes!
Extorting someone isnt the way to have a friendship or relationship! You should feel ashamed.
But I am, Tom, Im blackmailing you, she laughed.

Thats not going to work, he smiled.

What if everyone on campus thought you were a fucking whore?
Whore-men on campus only become popular. Okay, listen. Ive got just a little bit more work to
do. Let me finish, and then we can talk about this. Lets go to a show in San Francisco on Friday.
So you do like me?
Come on, Shirl, he said, putting his head in his palm.
I wont talk about your other friends. She sucked in her cheeks.
Good.
Let me clean these dishes and I guess Ill go home. See you soon?
Sure, hon. we can talk next week, after the show.
After a five-minute cleaning spree in the kitchen, Shirley left. Tom heard the front door close. He
put the finishing touches on his article, backed up his file to the Cloud, and shut down the computer.
He closed the door to his study, and poured himself a drink.
Tom slept fitfully, confronted with images of standing in front of an altar with Diana, who was
dressed in white. Mendelssohns Wedding March wafted through background in distorted chords. In
the center aisle stood Shirley. Tom wore a sparkling watch and a golden wedding band. Diana
mumbled unintelligible words and waved a big Bible before them. Tom pulled one arm to his chest,
curling it fetal style. His ring fingers skin disintegrated, revealing the bones. The ring slipped off and
tumbled to the dark floor with a clink. He jolted awake in a cold sweat.
It was Friday night in the heart of San Franciscos North Beach District. Tom and Shirley clapped
and sang along with the Beach Blanket Babylon show in the Club Fugazi Theater, their hearts
pumping in time with the hysterical pop parodies. After the show, they walked hand-in-hand, skipping
and humming. They were heading toward the popular Caf Sport on Green Street for an aprs-theater
feast.
Come on now, and shake a little bit higher now shake a little bit louder now They sang
the final song together, humming the words they didnt know.
As they waited for the traffic lights to change, Tom remembered Betty. How exotic her long thin
legs looked and how smooth her skin felt. Feeling stirrings in his groin, he gripped Shirleys hand.
Arriving at the caf, they encountered a long line. Tom grinned and said, Reservation for two. The
name is Tom Peterson.
Youve thought of everything, Shirley said, beaming.

Yes. Tom looked at his watch.

An efficient waiter helped the couple navigate the crowded restaurant. They were nearing their
table. Cramped, kooky ornaments jammed their surroundings from floor to ceiling. A cacophony of
mixed conversation completed the eclectic atmosphere. Menus appeared in front of both Tom and
Shirley before they were seated.
Walking in silence between them, Tom looked at his watch, Shirley at the chattering crowd. They
were soon interrupted.
Sit! the waiter briskly motioned, attracting the couples attention. Nearby diners chuckled. What
do you want to eat?
I dont know yet, Shirley had barely looked at the menu. She had been busy people-watching.
Thats kinda rude, dont you think? Shirley gave the waiter a mean look and the people sitting
nearby looked up and snickered.
Shirley frowned at Tom.
Aw, its all good and have a great meal, the waiter said.
Two glasses of Cabernet please, Tom ordered. Hon, this place is known for its rudeness. Its
part of the charm. He pulled her chair a bit closer to him.
Okay, I see. I like it, I guess, Shirley gave a smile of slight embarrassment.
I come here sometimes. The atmosphere sort of takes you back to the gold rush days, Tom
scratched his knee with unease. He wondered how to broach the topic that was on his mind.
The couple pored over their menus. The waiter returned with the wine. Tom recommended pasta,
and Shirley took him up on his suggestion. Tom appreciated her agreeable radiance.
Good suggestion, Tom, she said, blushing.
Tom placed one hand on top of Shirleys. His stomach constricted as he wondered how she would
respond to the conversation. The gesture caught the attention of some of the other diners, who smiled
at the couple. This was not lost on Shirley, who smiled back.
Well, I received some good news today. I got my certificate of tenure! Tom caressed Shirleys
hand. A nearby couple stole a glance at them.
So I cant blackmail you anymore? Shirley smiled.
Tom laughed. Im really pleased about this. Ive been working towards this notice for a long time.

Its been a big life goal.

I know. Im happy for you. Congratulations, Tom. She made a small head bow.
You know, I think I worried too much about the tenure review team. USF is a liberal place. Tom
sipped his wine. He placed his glass back on the table and tucked his napkin into the neck of his shirt.
It must be, if they elected you. She laughed.
And get thisthey want me to do my monogamy lectures at a couple other campuses. His belly
did an excited flip.
All good news. Her face was stone and her body rigid.
Thank you. Tom glanced at his watch, wishing to twist it a half-turn. He scanned the crowded
room before staring into her eyes. Shirley, can I ask you a question? he whispered, his hand tapping
the top of hers.
Sure. This isnt a proposal is it? Her elevated voice attracted the attention of the lady at the next
table. Shelly let out a silly giggle.
Oh my God, thought Tom. He leaned forward and whispered, You know were not ready for that.
Not ready?
The food arrived, giving Tom a chance to catch his breath. Um, yes I know, but first I wanted to
know if you knew anything about open relationships?
No, not really, Shirley pulled her hand back and forked lettuce into her mouth.
Okay, then. Should I explain? Tom drew his head closer to hers.
Sure, Im always interested in learning from you, Shirley sipped her wine and smiled.
An open relationship is one of love, and in this love relationship, theres an open-ended situation.
Each person has freedom. He held her gaze.
Shirley dropped her attention to her plate, taking small bites and chewing thoughtfully. After a long
minute she moved her gaze across the table toward Tom. What do you mean, open-ended? I dont
think I like the sound of that. She straightened her back and looked at the other diners, as if for help.
Itll be okay. Between us, its not a bad idea. Tom fiddled with his fork.
I hope its not a bad idea. Shirleys expression changed into one that Tom had never seen before.
You know, open relationships allow sexual adventures outside the primary couple. He downed a

big gulp of wine.

Sounds like adultery, a bad idea. Shirley dropped her fork-bearing hand onto the table and
crossed her legs more tightly.
Well Tom stammered, feeling the stares of the other restaurant-goers.
But you know this hurts me.
Shirley, I never said Id be exclusive. And I never asked you to be loyal. Tom finished his pasta.
That makes me sick.
There are a lot of people who manage open relationships these days too. Some come back and
share their experiences with their lover. He took a luxuriant breath. It gave him pleasure even just to
talk about this form of intimacy.
Is this some kind of shit just so you can cheat? Shirley wagged her finger and raised her voice.
The people at neighboring tables put their heads down and looked at their plates. Shirleys fork fell to
the table with a clank.
Its not cheating if both parties agree on the rules. Toms gut stilled and he plastered a goofy
expression on his face.
Im upset because we cant be together.
Exactly, thats what I mean. You expect something thats impossible to fulfill, he winked.
I thought you said Im supposed to have goals, she said, pointing her fork at him.
Yes, goals are good.
I want you for a goal!
Their neighbors smiled to themselves with gushing sentimentality.
And I always say that I dont want that. You should look for a higher goal.
Higher goal? Her brows lifted. She gulped water from her glass.
I know I do. Maybe its only men who yearn for freedom and adventure, he said, shrugging.
What an ass! So you betray me in the process of some lofty pursuit? Her face was like a lioness
ready to pounce.
You shouldnt want things you cant have. Like me, his thumb drew towards his chest.

Fuck you.
Cant you be nice? Tom leaned in and used a soft voice.
So Im a bitch? Shirley scoffed, tossing a piece of bread in his face.
Tom flinched and looked around. Were just working a few things out, he said to the nearby
diners, who laughed shyly. Shirl, Ive been asking you to read a few things to help us.
I think youre just getting all academic and saying this because you want me to let you have more
women! Youre a big fucking cheat! Her face screwed up unattractively, and heavy lines appeared
around her mouth and eyes.
Are you telling me that out of the billions of people in the world, Im the only one for you? We
talked about that! Thats a myth. Its a fairy tale. Its not real life. You cant own another person. Im
not a possession!
What the hell?
Dont be foolish.
We can set rules like dont put your dick in another womans pussy! She swallowed water with a
big gulp. The neighboring couple looked the other way.
Quiet, someone whispered.
No, the rules are like vows. Tom lowered his voice. Theyre promises people make to each
other.
Bullshit, she pounded a fist onto the table. People glanced in their direction. This is our rule.
You cant cheat. Her face cracked with deep ridges.
Cant you try? he said, reaching an open hand on the table.
Hell no! She took a butter knife and jabbed at his palm.
Ouch!
Try to hush now, the waiter put his finger to his lips.
You might learn to love being in an open relationship.
No, its creepy and it cant be very loving, her voice stung. This is for all the men who love to
fuck around! She reached across and slapped him, and then pushed away from the table.

People watched, whispering to each other.

Please Im just trying to talk about this, he smoothed his palm along his reddened cheek.
You want to fuck other women! The people near them went silent as she stood up.
Well, yes to put it crudely.
Is this what you want? she yelled. I think its bullshit! She brushed her skirt down, grabbed her
water glass and smashed it on the floor. The other diners responded by flinching and making loud
oohs and ahhs.
Calm down! someone yelled.
Shirley stomped towards the door.
Shirley, wait what are you doing? Tom stood up.
Im going home! she huffed, and pushed her way through the doors.
I can drive you, hold up a minute, Tom threw some cash onto their table. His face reddened as he
followed on her heels. Im so sorry, everyone, he turned and said to the blur of featureless faces.
He caught up with her outside on the sidewalk. Lets talk. What do you want? Tom clamored.
One man for one woman! Her nostrils flared as she swept a hand in the air with one finger
extended.
I cant afford a married lifestyle.
Marriage is good for us.
Sure, but did you know thats a myth? This is why I hoped youd pick up something written by
Peggy Vaughan. She wrote the very famous book Monogamy is a Myth.
What the hell dya mean, a myth? She pushed her head forward and raised both eyebrows, talking
in a controlled but loud tone. At that moment, Tom thought her nose looked like a pigs ugly snout. She
turned and paced towards the parking lot.
A myth, according to Websters, is a legendary story, usually concerning an event, without a
determinable basis of fact.
Both reached the car at the same time and got in.
Who cares about Websters? So youd cheat after marriage! Shirleys face scrunched and she

seemed as if she was about to cry. She breathed noisily, like a baby skunk.
Or you might. Women cheat, too. Tom started the car.
Not me. Im faithful!
Can we stop arguing about this? Theres something more for you in this life. Theres something
beyond marriage. There are other ways in which you can contribute to society, other than having a
family.
Im no Einstein. I want to be in a faithful marriage and have kids. Thats all! Take me home. She
tightened her eyes.
Well be home in three minutes.
Minutes passed. Youve ruined my life! Shirley huffed. Her face scrunched in a manner that Tom
found hard to look at.
Come on, your life is not over or ruined.
I just dont agree. I want marriage, Shirley finally concluded, her face reddening.
No, we dont agree about that subject.
Shirley squirmed in her seat. I cant stand wondering anymore. Who are you fucking?
You dont know her.
Shit! Shirley swallowed hard. Who is she?
Her name is Betty. Shes a ladyboy, he held his chin high.
What the fuck are you saying? She recoiled and pulled her arms close to her body.
A man who is a lady, you knowa transsexual. He looked straight ahead and held his head high.
Oh God, a Tranladywhat? Shirleys eyes blazed with hatred and disgust. She shuddered,
covering her mouth.
Betty was born as a man.
But how do two men . . . what? Shirley gaped at him.
Are you asking how she has sex?
What the hell? Yes! Yuk!

Shes still pre-op, so its anal. You knowin the ass, he said, with a playful grin.
Ohhhh, stop, I cant hear that. I want to vomit. She coughed and put two fingers in her ears.
Dont get ill or crazy. Bettys a sweet and wonderful person, and shes very scholarly.
He, sheBut how could you do this to me? she cried.
Im not doing anything to you.
You cheated with a Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Dont cry, Tom said, pulling the car to a stop at her front door.
If I ever see Diana or Betty, Ill kill both of them. I hate you!
Its best we say goodbye. Ive tried to be good to you, but I see Id never be able make you
happy. Tom stepped out of the car. He went around and opened her door.
No, I dont think you can give me what I want! See ya!
Tom opened his arms for a departing embrace.
Fuck you! Stay away from me. I never want to touch you, Shirley sneered. Youre a sex freak!
She lurched back and quickly left.
Okay, Tom said, as she stormed towards her apartment door.
Tom glanced at his watch, gave it a half-twist, tapped his pocket, and got back in the car. As he
headed home, relief washed through him, caressing every muscle and limb.
When Tom was inside his home, he sagged into a chair and took a deep breath. Before too long, he
fell asleep. Tom dreamed he was hunting deer with his father. They walked through snow up and
down hills until they came to a rest on one cozy hill. Dad blew steam out of his mouth. What a great
day for hunting, he placed his hunting rifle aside and Cody came trotting into view. She panted,
stretched, and lowered herself to the snowy ground at their feet. Tom pulled out cups and dad filled
them with steaming coffee. After a sip, Tom brought out his tenure certificate to show his dad. He
smiled wide, placing it under Dads nose.
Son, you damn well did it! Dads eyes watered up as he looked into Toms. Im so proud of you.
Youve made me a proud father.
Tears came to Toms eyes. I love you, Dad.

Within weeks of the breakup with Shirley, Tom moved on with his life and started dating again.
Toms happiness is borne of freedom, much like that of an unleashed dog that is free to run in the park,
going wherever he wants and sniffing anything that captures his interest. His new girlfriend prefers
open relationships, too. He travels along his own life path, and has found it best to engage in an early
conversation about open relationships when he meets potential partners.

Today
Professionally, Tom still works as a University professor. He Drew upon his twenty years of
experience as a researcher and lecturer on male sexuality, he wrote and published a book titled; A
Mans Guide to Cheating and Marriage.
Toms success gleaned from this book encouraged him to delve into the unknown portions of social
unrest, where another need intrigued him. Tackling an entirely new industry, he began to search for
ways to modernize the electrical grid infrastructure.
Tom holed himself up at his desk, leaving the house only to attend lectures and updates on the
project. He focused his creativity on solving the potential serious damage caused by terror attacks or
infrequent solar storms and electromagnetic pulse (EMP) outbreaks. He studied all the latest
technologies that might be used in new above and belowground grid conduits. He saw that the act of
saving our electrical grid would require many labor efforts, mostly by men. He prepared plans to add
innovative protective barriers, including redundancy plans should one part of a grid go down He also
documented newly invented wide gap semi-conductors that reduce heat and improve energy
production. He created slide shows and budgets.
Tom is coordinating his plans and presentations with a Senator in Sacramento and pitched financing
to big utility companies, large private lenders and government funded super project. He expects the
Pentagon will find interest in the plan and provide resources.
I have three presentations so far with very detailed labor and cost plans, he said while talking on
the phone to the Senator.
Do you have a ten minute brief presentation that you can show me and eight others that are forming
a committee? The Senator asked.
I sure do. I have one that shows the cost savings and social importance of the project and how
many men we can put to work with the project.
Good, I have an hour set aside here in Sacramento next Friday at ten am. The Senator said.
I also have a long list of innovative technologies and building techniques that can be used in this
project.
It sounds youve done plenty of legwork for us. Im looking forward to Friday.
I can be there.
They ended the phone call and Tom flopped himself into his soft chair feeling incredible about

living by his own credo. As he always told his students, he is now achieving something far beyond
basic marriage and is fulfilling his potential.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

Being monogamous is not natural for humans.ccvii ccviii ccix ccx
50%-80% of marriages are not monogamous.ccxi ccxii ccxiii
Marital monogamy is a myth. ccxiv ccxv
Mens natural-born adventure is killed by monogamy. ccxvi ccxvii
Monogamy kills mens sex drive and marriage. ccxviii ccxix
Only 3% of the 5,000 species are monogamous for life.ccxx
Monogamy is a great objective for some, but is hardly attainable.ccxxi
Abraham, David, Solomon, and Moses had many wives.ccxxii ccxxiii
Famous men like George Washington were not monogamous.ccxxiv
Many Hollywood stars follow Liz Taylors have serial marriages.ccxxv
Many leaders like Genghis Khan and Julius Caesar had many wives.ccxxvi
Men: Never tell a woman you love her, if you dont. Men love sex.ccxxvii
Managing expectations results in more happiness. ccxxviii
Most women want men to be true to only them and be secure.ccxxix ccxxx ccxxxi
Most women want male loyalty but are not loyal themselves. ccxxxii ccxxxiii ccxxxiv
Monogamy will not make us happy.ccxxxv ccxxxvi
Men created and built our daily comforts and technologies.ccxxxvii ccxxxviii
Women earn less than men for the same work is a falsehood. ccxxxix ccxl
Jealousy can be managed. ccxli ccxlii

Chapter 11
Lady Derringers Sex
Cecilia Barnes, man-eating lioness, was coiled on her haunches and ready to pounce on her
unsuspecting victim. Watching his eyes dart about the grand ballroom, and listening to his uneasy
laughter, she sensed he fulfilled the very definition of man. His innocent demeanor and handsome
visage intensified her craving to find the only thing lacking in her lifea man. But not just any man.
Cecilia, like many women, needed a man she could possess and dominate.
Waiting in an upstairs corner at the country clubs 2011 Annual Prosperos Masquerade Ball,
Cecilia decided to follow Lady Derringers advice. For the moment, the secrets conjured by this
illustrious name remained in her mind, where Lady Derringer would insist that these horrors
belonged. Over and over again, Cecilia struggled to quiet those memories, in the hopes that eventually
they would be forever silenced. But for now, they incessantly haunted her. Unlike Cecilias mother,
these memories were impervious to murder.
From the mezzanine, she gazed down at her nerd of a man. She noticed he was fidgeting.
Unprotected, he lingered by the punch bowl, the only person not in costume. Or perhaps he was in
costume, an extremely subtle one. In his olive suit, orange-and-brown-striped shirt, and cockeyed,
green bowtie, perhaps he was impersonating a nerd. But his body movements betrayed too much
genuine awkwardness for it to be an act.
She wondered whether she was going to win the costume competition again this year. Two weeks
ago, under telephone directions from Lady Derringer, Cecilia had bought a $79.95 copy of Miss
Derringers famous costume, the Saloon Madame, as seen in all those seductive advertisements in
Playboy, Esquire, and Womens Home Companion. The bustier pushed her breasts up inside her
green velvet dress, and her cleavage was emphasized by the pendant choker. She wore the cowgirl
hatcomplete with a violet feathertilted down, shading her eyes and hiding her evil intent. Her
grandmothers tiny, double-barrel Derringer was tucked into a holster that hung low on her hips. To
finish the look, she wore fishnet stockings and black leather boots.
Peering down, she noticed the dancing crowd had thinned out. Her heart beat faster as the music
faded to a quiet hum in the background.
The night grew late. Cecilia upended her fifth glass of spiked punch, and lifted her skirt to reveal
the tempting garter underneath. She flounced, like a cancan dancer, down the winding stairways red
carpet and approached her prey head-on. They locked eyes before shed made it halfway down the
steps. When she reached the punch bowl, the young man adjusted his bowtie nervously.
The names Ruby Labia. She un-holstered her Derringer and used it to tip up her hat, allowing

her glamorous, green eyes to glint at her prey.

Huh? Nerd-guys brows rose, as if in shock.
I said, my name is Ruby Labia, she said, holstering her weapon.
Nerd-faces eyes widened in response, he took a step back, sliding sideways behind the table.
Would you like a drink? Can I serve you? He dipped the ladle into the bowl of pink punch.
You can, and you will. Cecilia placed her hands on her hips.
Beg your pardon? He leaned back an inch.
Cecilia concluded that this cutie was a timid mouse-man, one of those who had been badgered,
hounded, pestered, and destroyed in high school for their awkwardness or super-nerdy looks; a
perfect patsy.
Have you ever been indiscreet? She flashed a smile as she looked him slowly up and down.
Indiscreet? IIm not sure what you mean. His young face drained of color. He swallowed, and
clunked the ladle around the punchbowl.
Let me give you an example. She put her tiny hands on the table between them and leaned toward
him. Her breasts were in full view. Take me to your place, and fuck my brains out. Oh, and dont call
me in the morning. Her voice sounded smooth and steady.
I doubt my mother would like that, he said, buttoning his jacket and looking away.
You still live with your mother? Her voice was deadpan. She leaned forward against the
punchbowl and put her hands on it, rubbing her vagina alongside it, in a subtle way that only he could
see.
No. The man chewed his lip and averted his gaze.
No? she said.
Well, yes. But its because shes sick, not because Im, uh
A mamas boy? Cecilia tiptoed around the punchbowl and stood beside him. A real nerd?
Someone who cant afford his own place?
Hey, now
Did you tell me your name? She leaned closer.

Im Roy. Roy Benson, He glanced at her and then at his feet again.
She suppressed her laughter and wondered if he enjoyed pain. Mingled with the smell of his fear
was the scent of aftershave, which aroused her. It always had. Ever since puberty, certain smells had
the ability to make her wet. She blamed this on her mother.
Mom will pay dearly. Not now, my demon friend, I think Im falling in love again.
Yeah, so He continued in a small voice, Ruby, is it? Wheres that name come from?
She sneered at him with a trace of playfulness. This is your first rodeo, Roy, so Im going to
excuse you and explain a few things. You dont ask questions. I ask questions.
To her surprise and delight, Roy did not walk away, or call her crazy, or tell her to fuck off. He
simply looked at his shoes. She liked that.
Why did you come here? She put one hand on her hip.
To meet people, I guess. He shrugged one shoulder.
Im people. She smoothed her dress, rubbing herself between the legs.
Roy straightened his posture, craning his neck left to right. Was anyone else seeing this? He
wondered. Who was this girl?
Tell me something nice about myself. She reached out for Roys hand and took it up.
Uhum He looked her body up and down, feeling a surge that made his cheeks redden. He
contemplated her legs, her breasts, her lovely neckshe was the sexiest woman he had ever seen.
Yes, hed never been to this rodeo before. Your earrings theyre very nice? He took in the long,
jeweled strands of blood-red rubies.
Really, Roy? My earrings? Not my outfit? My tits? She stepped closer to him, taking his hand and
placing it on her hip. My ass? Or didnt you get to see it? Would you have commented on my ass?
Roy let his hand lay on her hip. He felt it grow warmerhis whole body felt as if a radiating heat
had flicked on at its center.
Cecilia directed his hand in slow circles, the material moving underneath it, and then in everwidening circles, taking up more of her, until they were held in a close embrace with his hand, under
hers, on the plumpness of her ass. He grabbed it reflexively, and held tight to the smooth material of
her dress. His mind raced.
Just my earrings? Do you see anything else worthy of comment? She leaned up into his ear, the
blazing red of her lips parted.

He sighed loudly, and a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. Youryes, your ass is, is
Realizing he didnt know how to describe a girls ass, he stammered, Delicious. He winced.
Delicious? She smiled against his neck, and allowed him to push her hips into his groin, where
she found him eager against her. Why, you havent even tasted ityet. She rocked against his
hardness, rubbing her hips quietly back and forth against it, forming a slow, mounting pleasure.
Youyoure crazy He leaned his upper body away from her, his breath heavy.
You asked about my earrings, dear. They belonged to my great-grandmother, she teased one of the
little baubles with her finger. My mom gave them to me before she died. The light from the
bandstand filtered through the ruby bauble on her earring and refracted into pieces.
Oh, my, Im sorry. He took a deep breath.
Want to come over to my place?
His heart skipped a beat. He gulped awkwardly before answering, Sure.
The night was clear. A light rain had recently passed, creating sparkling lights on the citys foliage.
They strolled hand-in-hand toward her apartment, the shy young man in the drab olive suit and the
voluptuous Saloon Madame in red earrings and a velvet dress.
Cecilias hand nestled in the crook of his arm. They sought to know each otherrather, Cecilia was
seeking to know Roy, and Roy was seeking to know whatever Cecilia would share.
Cecilia held her cowboy hat in her hand, patting her thighs with it every now and then.
Have you ever fucked your boss? she asked, cocking her head.
Roy laughed. Fucked my boss, huh? Youll say anything, wont you?
Sure. Im not shy. You have, havent you?
Roy rolled his eyes and laughed. Youre crazy. Sex with my boss? No way! I work in a laboratory
searching for cellular cures. If I did Id probably end up with herpes or something.
What? Cecilia frowned, slowing her steps. Does he know I have herpes? She wondered. She
paused in the middle of the wet sidewalk. Away from the costume party, her costume seemed
ridiculous, but the cuts of her cleavage and the flow of her legs seemed all the more sexy for being out
of place.
He stopped when he was a few feet ahead of her. Oh, come on, its a little professional humor. Im

a pharmaceutical research lead.

Oh! You confused me. She breathed deeply, and ran to catch up with him.
Sorry.
You should be. That sounds boring.
I assure you it isnt, he smiled.
As they walked up the walkway and toward her apartment, the streetlights shone brightly above the
leafy trees, casting moving shadows on the ground. The shadows rolled like squiggly masses of bugs
eating a maggot-filled carcass.
In Roy, Cecilia found a shyness and puppy-like innocence she could instruct and torment. He
seemed smart, but trusting; smooth in his own unique way, but also rather bumbling and
inexperienced. Her head swam with all of the delicious lovemaking scenarios Roy would be too
timid to refuse. She had a plastic dildo, which she wearied of using on herself; she would prefer to
push it into a willing partner. The thought made her smile. As well, there was Lady Derringers tiny
automatic pistol, the one designed especially for Cecilia; the one with a thin, heated handle that fit
between the lips of Cecilias pussy and hit the right spot. One day, she would use it with Roy, she was
sure of it. Just thinking of such things made Cecilias labia ache and moisten.
Well, here we are. Cecilia tapped Roys shoulder.
Okay.
Oh! So it is. She took a step towards the door, and then turned back to face him. Unless
Unless what?
I was having a good time, she offered him a half-smile.
I have a question. Its getting kind of late He pursed his lips.
That wasnt a question.
She took his hand, and led him into the apartment, a smattering of uhs and buts trailing out of his
mouth. Before he could discern a way to tell her no, he absolutely had to leave, he was already late
for another engagement, his mother would be worried sick about him, and he needed to work in the
morning, he was standing in the elevator with this vixen. He felt a bit woozy. Was this a dream, or a
nightmare?
Hey, he began, I have to know why

She smacked his thigh with the back of her hand.

Hey!
Shh! We have to be quiet on the elevator. She put a finger on her lips.
Roy frowned.
It was a silent ride up, except for the scratching of the material covering Cecilias crotch. Roy
pretended not to take notice.
When they arrived at her door, Roy hesitated, but Cecilia waved her hand.
Once inside, she turned on a light, casting a dim glow across the murky walls. There were
rainwater stains streaking down from the ceilings. It was a plain room, and she instructed Roy to sit
on the black, Ikea couch with his head in his hands and his eyes closed.
Cecilia left him and went to her bedroom.
Even though he was too ashamed to admit it, Roy secretly liked this loss of freedom; it freed him
from doing the wrong thing, from messing up. He opened his eyes.
No peeking. She came back, and sat in front of him on the shag carpet, her pale thighs bare,
exposing light pink panties which barely concealed her.
Roy stared at her legs for a few moments before he realized Cecilias breasts were spilling out of
her top, exposing her nipples.
Youryour He motioned to her chest.
This isnt my first rodeo, asshole. Its my nipple. Do you like it?
Roy took a deep breath. Cecilia decided to get to work on taking control. Im always in charge of
men.
Really? Roy was beginning to think everything Cecilia said was a lie. It all sounded too
extravagant or grandiose. If this was the case, he would rather like it, because it would mean she
wasnt crazy, just kinky.
Yes, he convinced told himself. She was lying. Those people, Roy thought, didnt really exist. And
were they good? The ones you fucked?
Ill ask the questions. Youre not allowed to ask me questions until I give you permission. She
placed her index finger on her thigh, and casually rubbed the elastic band of her panties. Her eyes
fluttered shut.

First, whats your favorite television show?

Documentaries, Nature, physics, quantum mechanics. Guys like David Attenborough, Neil
deGrasse Tyson. Roy relaxed back on the sofa.
Breathing heavily, she continued to touch her thigh. As he watched her breasts rise and fall
intensely, he knew he was hard. He could easily come, just from the fabric of his pants rubbing
against him.
Mmm. Thats goodif you were going to she gave a whimper, and took a few low, shallow
breaths, to say something like Family Guy, Id have kicked you ouou oh Her fingers moved
over the material covering her labia, moving along them, sliding in between the elastic band, inside of
it. Youd be out. She slowed down, letting her fingers rest there, and opened her eyes. And tell me,
Roy, look at me. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a Mister Softie ice-cream truck guy.
Are you serious? Selling softies to children? That was your dream? She gave him a
condescending look. She sneered and looked him up and down, noticing his athletic socks peeled
over his scuffed, brown tennis shoes.
His face reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck and stammered, Im joking. I dont often joke.
I guess as a kid I always dreamed of rocketing to Mars and discovering new forms of bacteria. Today,
I watch a lot of shows on the Science Channel and work on DNA replication and how
pharmaceuticals interact with such processes. He clasped his hands together.
DNA? She had thought of him as the odd kid who everyone thought might be gay, but he was
actually the nervous, science geek who isolated himself from everyone else. Of all the people in high
school, she left those nerds alone.
Maybe thats where I missed out. Who could know? Fuck a nerd and see the world.
Yes, I love DNA and cell therapy stuff. Ive been involved in three life-saving discoveries. It pays
well; we own our house, just Mom and me.
What about your dad?
My dad? Dad passed away two years ago. He shoved both hands in his pockets, and looked
away from her.
He had answered the phone call. He remembered sitting with his mother in the hospital room,
watching his fathers health deteriorate with every passing day. Roy had known it was coming. That it
would be slow. He had known that in the last moments, when his father cried out, Roy would have to
be the one to tell him everything was going to be all right.

His fathers death had shaken him to his roots. It had taken a piece of him that was impossible to
replace. He remembered hugging his father for the last time, hearing the death rattle, watching the
nurses give him more and more drugs to buffer the pain. Knowing in the end, it would be the drugs
some of which probably came from the very pharmaceutical company Roy worked forthat robbed
him of his life
Cecilia snapped her fingers. Roy?
Sorry, he said, and shook himself out of the daze. He reoriented his attention to the beauty before
him.
Are you still with me?
What did you say? He looked back into her eyes.
Im sorry to hear your father died. What do they say on television? Were sorry for your loss. Isnt
that stupid, Roy? My mother died not long ago. She fell down her basement stairs, bashed in her head
something awful.
I remember you mentioned that. I didnt know it was so bad, though. Shit. Are you okay, Ruby?
He seems to care, thought Ruby. Thats a question, Roy. She softened her lips into a little smile.
But yeah. Thanks for asking. And its Cecilia, by the way.
You mean your real name? Cecilia it is. Roy nodded.
Cecilia Barnes, she added.
As the night wore on, Cecilia kept Roy talking. She teased the discomfort out of him and replaced it
with what Roy would later describe in his journal as a weird sense of comfort.
Cecilia sat on the shag carpet with her bare thighs spread against it, leaning her elbows on her
knees. Roy was more comfortable when he wasnt looking at her, but doing so aroused a part of him
that had long been dead. He wasnt sure he wanted that part of him to come back to life. Feral and
animalistic, and oozing with testosterone, it was all the things to which he was no longer accustomed.
Were studying a potential treatment for impetigo, he said, running his fingers down the curtains.
They were made from some soft material, what kind he did not know.
Whats that? Cecilia asked, though she didnt really give a flying fuck. By now, Cecilia had
learned that the best way to get what she wanted was to first give the other person what they wanted.
Why wasnt he trying to jump her by now? But this was not Cecilias first rodeo. She let him talk.
Its a skin infection usually found in preschool children, Roy said as he straightened his back. He
pressed his knees together, and folded his hands in his lap. He stared straight ahead at the empty

fireplace, and then at the painting above the mantle.

She widened her smile and cocked her head sideways. Perhaps youre the type of man who stays
home because you find it more interesting than meeting people. Do you read a lot?
I do like to read.
Cecilia stretched out her legs. She turned to search for something underneath the television stand.
Roy tugged nervously at his bowtie.
Ive got something you can read right now. She straightened herself and pulled her legs back in.
Leaning forward, she presented him with a thick book in black binding. In fact, Roy, we should study
this book before we do anything else.
Study? Roy cocked his eyes, and glanced at his watch. It was after midnight. An internal debate
raged inside of him, a battle of brains versus hard-on. There could only be one winner. I dont know.
Its getting pretty late. I have to go to work tomorrow.
Cecilia rose. She stepped over the small, glass coffee table between them and stood with her hips
at Roys eye level. She enticed his hard-on with her weapons of mass destruction.
Maybe lets save the studying for another day. Roy flashed an awkward smile. His resolve
faltered and his brain grew hazy. He was mesmerized by the way her clothes draped around her hips
and legs, leaving so much bare. She smelled like a mixture of baby powder and peppermint. He saw a
freckle in the hollow of her hip. Almost without thinking, he reached a hand out towards it, and
touched it softly.
She moved away. Feeling slighted gave his brain the mojo it needed to regain control. He stood up
and started pacing nervously about. Above the fireplace hung a painting of a building that had been
scrubbed over with grey paint and the words NEVER AGAIN were scrawled over it in deep red
paint. The letters filled the canvas and dripped along the bottom edge, creating blood-like marks.
Do you paint? His voice trembled.
Thats one of my hobbies. As she considered the words bleeding on the canvas, a feeling of
sorrow crept up her throat. How could she ever share such horrible secrets? Maybe one day shed be
able to explain it to him.
Looks good. He didnt mean it. As startled as he was by the painting, he also reveled in it. He
knew it was good for girls to have hobbiesit kept them sane, or so his married buddies told him.
But this? He scanned the room with his hands in his pockets, narrowing his eyes. Were these the
paintings of a sane woman?
I paint my emotions, she said, waving her hand toward a far corner, where a childish sketch of a
nude female torso with large, egg-shaped breasts was scrawled in garish colors on off-white canvas.

In the center floated a dark gray-and-black-streaked penis that resembled a sickly tree trunk.
She looked intently at him; he gave her a smile of feigned recognition.
Nice, he whispered dutifully. He returned to the sofa, having exhausted his interest in her
paintings.
Its abstract art. It allows my mind to roam and conjure. Do you like it? She knelt beside him on
the sofa.
He imagined he would say are you crazy? Of course not, I hate it. Its juvenile, sick, and shows a
troubledbut otherwise emptymind. There is no technique. There is no love. It is the scrawling
of an idiot. But when he looked at her eyesthose green points of lightcasting a soft stare in his
direction, her intimate smile, and the way her hair fell along her cheeks; all of it took him by surprise.
He wondered behind one of the doors lay a dungeon where hed be beaten and harmed.
Its all very nice, he lied.
Yes, thank you. She knew she had him then. She turned and reached for the book at the other end
of the couch, but her fingers tipped it out of reach.
Roy looked at the painting in the corner. It really is disgusting, he thought, losing his hard-on. I
should really get away and go home.
She bent over and reached out, turning away from Roy, her fingers crawling along the carpet
towards the book. Her jaw clenched, the muscles of her neck tensed.
Roy heard a growl rise from her shifting silhouette. The mood in the room evaporated. A sudden
fear enveloped him.
Cecilia? he squeaked.
She bit down and shut her eyes tight, her jawbone contorted, until she finally grasped the book.
Not now! Go away my killing lizard friend!
Turning back to Roy, she blinked a few times. She stared seductively at him. I have a surprise for
you.
Whatare you okay? Your eyes
Just look, she said, holding up the book.
She placed the book between them and opened it. They both stared intently as she thumbed through
the graphically illustrated pages of The Joy of Sex by Alex Comfort. Roys mind paced, captured off-

guard by the books contents.

Wow.
Yes, she whispered. Making love is an art unto itself.
Is it? He chuckled with a shaky sound.
With her finger, she traced one of the drawings. It depicted a man standing up, holding a woman up
by her hips. The womans hands were planted on the ground. Full penetration; nothing was hidden.
Its called The Wheelbarrow. What do you think, Roy? Its a beautiful thing, right?
Yes. Yes, of course. I think so, yes, he gulped.
She leveled her gaze at him. You think so?
Roy shrugged helplessly, pushing the book off his lap.
And Cecilia finally wanted it. My God. She tossed the book onto the table in front of them and
grabbed his shoulder. She peered at him in disbelief. Roy, are youexperienced?
Well, fuck. Roy threw his hands up helplessly. What do you want me to say?
My God! It really is your first time! She threw her head back and laughed.
Ha-ha, he said, without a trace of humor in his voice. Sweat lined his brow.
Cecilia could feel his shame radiating. Perfect, she thought. I brought the book out for a reason. So
how about it?
I really should be going. Roy shook his head and stood. He worried she might take him to her
dungeon.
Cecilias tone sharpened. Hey! It was no longer one of concern, of joviality, of an understanding
that he was new to her world.
Her tone stopped him cold. He turned toward her.
She sneered, her hips undulating slowly against the couch. Come here.
Roy shifted on his feet, sighed heavily, and did as he was told. As he stood before her, she rose to
her feet and stood on the couch. Her chest was at Roys eye level. Roy turned his head, but she sunk
her nails into his scalp and pressed his face into her chest. Roy felt the heat of her breasts on his
cheeks and, despite himself, felt a mounting stiffness in his pants. She sucked in a deep breath and

grasped his left hand, gently guiding it under her dress.

Do you remember why we came here?
He felt her heartbeat against his face, her dress against his knuckles, her pink panties beneath his
fingertips, Satin. He moved against the soft, moistened fabric, making him swell.
Good boy! She manipulated his middle finger and guided it inside her. Feel that?
A surge of adrenaline coursed through him. Youre wet. He blinked as she slowly retracted his
hand from her vagina and placed it against his top lip.
Smell it.
He closed his eyes closed and took in the salt-laden aroma. She moved his hand to her nose, took a
whiff of her fingers, closed her eyes and grinned. Now.
Like a practiced pup, he moved his hand back under his nose for a second whiff. When she kissed
him, he let out a muffled cry. Her tongue moved against his, lifting him to a new heaven. He kissed
back. He was sloppy, unskilled, and uncoordinated, but Cecilia didnt care. She loved his eagerness.
She lowered them onto the couch, where they continued to make out. Her hands slid up the small of
his back, driving smoothly along the divots of his body.
She groped his gabardine pants, finding his hard-on standing at full attention. Remember when I
said smells turn me on?
Yes, I remember. Roy said, dazed.
Cecilia grabbed the book from the coffee table and placed it on his lap. She opened it to a full-page
illustration spread. Read the caption.
Now?
Now.
As he began to read, she ran her sharp nails along his shaft. He took a deep breath and tried again.
Ththere are only two guidelines in good sex. Dont do anything you dont really enjoy. Mmmm
moreover, find out your partners fantasies, and dont balk at fulfilling them. The book shared an
illustration of a woman being deeply penetrated, her legs wrapped over the mans shoulders.
Cecilia said, Are you taking notes?
I have a lot to learn Roys voice trailed off.
Cecilia removed his trousers with a forceful yank, and tossed them on the coffee table. She rose up
on her knees over his prostrate figure and stripped the Saloon Madames dress from her formidable

figure, wiggling evocatively as she did it. She hovered over his erection. There was nothing left on
her body except her silk panties, now around her knees, and the garter holster holding the tiny
Derringer on the side of her right thigh. Just in case, she thought. Her hands moved over her hips and
up her curvaceous sides. She ran her fingers down her flat stomach, and tickled the insides of her
thighs. Her vagina hovered above him, and her nipples were erect with anticipation. She leaned
forward and whispered, Touch me, Roy. Touch me everywhere.
Roy gulped, reaching up with both hands. His inexperienced caresses made Cecilia smile. He
grabbed her breasts and felt her nipples. She found his inexperience exciting and cute. Oh God,
thats nice.
Even in his wildest imagination, he could not have dreamed up this scenario. In high school, he had
been voted Least Likely to Score. Roy the virgin. Now he was Roy the sex god.
This woman in front of him wanted himhe knew that much. Why, he could not imagine. But here
she was, naked, her smooth body in his hands and her smell in his nostrils. Roy drooled.
Christ, I have a new happy puppy. Cecilia laughed and tossed back her hair as Roy fondled her
ass.
She arched her back, pulling away from Roy and going down on her knees. She leaned forward and
grasped his hard-on. She took a moment to really look at it. Who would have thought that this wimpy
nerd would have such a huge cock? She scooted forward on her knees. Roys eyes widened. He
couldnt believe he was about to do the very thing thatuntil nowhe had only read about and
watched on the Internet.
Instinct took over, and Roy bucked and thrust like a jackrabbit. He bucked twice before exploding,
squirting Cecilias vaginal walls with rhythmic spurts.
Cecilia felt his gush and rocked against it. As scripted by Lady Derringer, she let loose with the
best orgasmic scream she could, Oh God, oh!
Roy moaned loudly and flopped backwards, heaving with exhaustion. She closed her eyes and
collapsed onto his bare chest. Cecilia wasnt frustrated or disappointed at the three-second hero. He
was exactly the servant she wanteda loyal, faithful, and obedient manservant in the making.
Did I hurt you? He opened one eye.
No, my darling boy, she rolled off him and onto her back. Now youll learn to lick my pussy.
She whispered, Put your tongue on my clitoris. Its the knobby bit. Lick around until you
Roy eagerly lapped at her damp pussy, flattening his tongue inside her slit.
Ohhh uhhh yes. Like that!

The thrill eclipsed feeling like a sex dream. She collapsed, exhausted, and rolled to her back and
sank into the shag carpet.
They lay together on the carpet. That lovely sensation floated. Roy wasunthinking, wanting for
nothing, staring into space contentedly, no need for words or actions or intentions, completely
satisfied with the present moment, despite the perverse and peculiar actions that led to it.
After a while, Cecilia spoke in a dreamy, wistful voice. Pussy isnt the nicest sounding word, is
it?
Roy smiled lazily. He was now a man. No, not really.
The French might call it la chatte. She was toying with her bellybutton.
Thats nicer.
Do you like my chatte?
I love your chatte.
Would you like to know my chatte? She fought the temptation to bask in the warmth of the
moment, for this was the very moment to continue her plan against the unsuspecting Roy. I can teach
you all of the ins and outs of sex with my chatte. All you have to do, Roy, is be loyal. And never, ever
fuck another woman.
Cecilia, lets keep it slow. I like youI really like you. Lets justcan we move slowly? Im new
to relationships, and Im a very busy man. Its not as if Ill find a woman tomorrow to do what we just
didIm kind of shy. So I dont think you have to worry. But what youre talking about, thats
marriage, and we just met, you know?
Cecilia recalled that Lady Derringer had written that a mans natural instinct was to betray women,
and to copulate with as many women as possible. That was the whole history of men. It was also the
history of Derringer. She bolted upright, stroking the sidearm still strapped to her bare, pale waist.
Roy, do you know about the Derringer pistol?
Huh? No, I dont think so.
Well, she un-holstered the weapon.
Roy became aware of his vulnerable position. She stroked the weapon, and spoke softly, smoothly,
like a museum tour guide. The original pistol was a single-shot, muzzle-loading pistol made by
Henry Derringer, spelled with one R. Aiming the muzzle at the wall, she stared down the tiny sight,
both hands cupping the warm handle. She closed one eye. It was used by John Wilkes Booth in the
assassination of Abraham Lincoln. After that, lots of companies started making Derringerwith two
Rspistols designed especially for women to use in self-defense. Derringers are tiny, and therefore

they are easy to hide.

I did not know that, Roy said, thinking he should pick his next words very carefully.
Oh, you silly boy, Cecilia withdrew from her firing position and holstered the weapon in a
practiced way that Roy found frightening. Why was she so good with a gun?
If you ever cheat on me, Ill blow your brains out. Believe me Im perfectly capable of it.
Okay. I see.
After their first meeting, they started dating. Roy convinced himself not to take Cecilias threat
seriously. Perhaps shed had too much liquor that night, or he had misunderstood her. Besides, she
was, at the very least, a nine; and her body was a ten. Roy knew himself to be a seven, at best. He
told himself a little crazy was okay.
Over the next months, Cecilia trained Roy in the art of lovemaking. Since Roy enjoyed her
company, he chose to ignore her nervous tics and strange behavior. Whenever she exploded in a rage
about something inconsequential, he would simply give her some space.
The sex was great for Roy. Together, they spent hours leafing through The Joy of Sex. Each new
illustration prompted an experimentation session. He looked forward to testing new things. His
scientific mind delved deep into the images.
The only shadow that continued to befall them was Roys inability to control his ejaculation.
Cecilia found it difficult to broach the subject with Roy. He seemed to be unaware that his jackrabbit
style of copulation provided her with little satisfaction. Of course, she compensated for this with her
own toys whenever the mood struck her. Besides, Roy wasnt there to satisfy her sexually. He was
there to be her slave.
Roy and Cecilia were sitting in Roys living room. Family pictures and worthless baubles lined the
dingy, floral-print walls, and the plastic-covered couch squeaked whenever they moved. Cecilia
mentioned that the whole place smelled of mothballs and stale peppermint. But all in all, it was going
well. There was a fireplace, in which Roy had built a fire, like a true Boy Scout. They had just
opened their second bottle of cheap red wine. It sat on the glass table in front of them, and Cecilia
was ready.
She had waited until a dangerous timethe time when people feel close. They were cuddling on
the couch, and Roy had just finished regaling her with yet another boring story of how he had been
bullied in his youth. Cecilia had feigned interest during the whole thing. Then, she began.
I remember when I was still in school, the first time I bled.
Bled? You mean your period? Roy arched his eyebrows.

Yes, I was terrified. I thought I was sick or dying. My pants were bloody. It shocked me like you
wouldnt believe. Her body trembled at the memory.
Im sorry to hear that. It must have been terrible.
It frightened me. I knew nothing about this bleeding thing.
You didnt know?
Cecilia snorted and stared into the fireplace. Its light felt warm against her skin. Under her calm
demeanor, she felt anger, rushing in torrents. Why hadnt anyone told her, and why did she have to
suffer through all of that alone?
Your mother never told you?
My mother never told me shit. I felt humiliated and went home frightened. I showed my mom, and
she said, Go talk to your older sister, and swatted me away.
Well, at least your sister
My sister said you need a sani nap. She laughed at me. Youre so stupid and ugly, Cecilia. All I
could think was, Oh God, what is she saying? Did I need to take a nap for all of this to go away?
Roys eyes bulged. Your own sister said that?
Youll never get a man like I will when youre older, Cecilia. She imitated her sisters voice,
shrill and jagged.
The hairs on Roys neck stood on end.
Cecilia stared into the fire. I told my sister, I dont know what you mean. Oh God, your bodys
wasted rotten human flesh and ejected it like rubbish. Your body is useless. Your eggs are dead
Cecilia laughed morosely. But I didnt know what eggs she meant.
Roy sat paralyzed in his spot, hoping Cecilia would snap out of this. It was no longer a retelling,
but a reliving.
Human ejection of wasted shit. Her stupid, face all squeezed, like shed bitten into a raw lemon
or some shit.
Honey, Roy said quietly, reaching for her. She brushed him away and stood up, swishing her
wine in its glass. Roy put his wine down, feeling suddenly sober.
My sister called me an idiot and said, Oh, Ill take you to the drugstore. She threw back a gulp
of her wine. She was annoyed, you could fucking tell.

What happened? asked Roy. He leaned back on the squeaking couch, wishing it would swallow
him up.
Why are you jealous of me? My sister asked. I asked whether I put it under my clothes or over, I
was so fucking stupid. But I wasnt jealous of her. Cecilia crossed her arms, as if to protect herself
from harm.
Roy couldnt see her face, but he could hear the tears in her voice. Mom always liked her better.
Always loved her, the good one . Not me, though. No, not Cecilia. She dabbed at her eyes, and
returned to the couch. Resting her feet on the coffee table, she lay the wine down beside Roys.
I said I dont understand why mom never told me about this. My sister said its too private.
Womans slop-hole stinks and it makes her sick. But the situation never left my head. She chuckled,
knocking the side of her skull with her knuckles. Why would mom withhold something so
important?
Roy came close and wrapped her in his arms.
My family was wrong, dont you think? She nuzzled against him.
Roy nodded distractedly. Yes. His hands moved along her waist, up her shirt. His kisses tickled
her neck. They were. Menstruation is nothing to be ashamed of. She glanced down at him. She knew
he looked for it againshe had him hooked to her chatte.
Dont you agree?
Nothing to be ashamed about, he said, his eyelids closing, his lips moving down her cheek to the
nape of her neck, to the hollow of her collarbone, down to the collar of her blouse.
Menstruation is sexy.
Roys kisses slowed, and he let out a sigh. For one night, he wanted to pretend his girlfriend was
normal. He figured tonight wasnt going to be that night.
I can show you if you like. I think youll find it sexy, too.
Show me what? Are you on your period right now?
What if I am? Cecilia cocked her eyebrow.
Roy backed away, ready to exit through the nearest window and take off for the hills. It doesnt
matter. It means we have to wait, you know?
She grabbed his wrist. Roy, right now Im wearing a tampon.
Oh, God. His face twisted.

Do you want to see?

Oh God, he muttered again, the color fading from his face. No, Cecilia. I dont want to. I really,
really dont want to see anything like that.
Cecilia could read fear and disgust in his face, weakness in his voice, and a lilting hard-on in his
pants. She appreciated Royhis fear of her and his love for her, or for her chatte, at least. She
reveled in her power. It prickled the hair on her arms.
Youll love it. She placed his hand on the hem of her skirt. Yet she didnt want him to love it. She
wanted to see his disgust, his fear, and his anger. She wanted him to hate it, and she wanted to
convince him he loved it.
No. Roy wiggled his hand out of her grasp. He felt like a fly caught in a spiders web.
Yes. She leveled her gaze at him.
He sighed deeply, relaxing into the couch, and this time when her hand came to his, he simply let it
happen. He was trapped. Hed be here forever.
Cecilia leaned back and flipped up her skirt, exposing her pale thighs and pink panties. She pulled
these down to her ankles and wiggled out of them, and then spread her legs. Trailing out of the pubic
hair was a thin white string. Roys nose wrinkled.
I use the string to pull the tampon out when I need to get rid of it and replace it with a new one.
She gripped the string between her thumb and forefinger, and looked up at Roy, who stared morosely
at the fireplace. The fire inside dwindled.
Uhh, no, he moaned with fear. His stomach tied itself into knots.
Roy, she said.
He blinked hard.
You have to watch. Im not doing this for me. She tugged the string, and out came a blood-soaked
tampon. She held it up, like a fish on a line. Nice, huh? Her jaw jutted out and she stared deep at his
pathetic eyes. Isnt it, Roy?
He jumped up from the couch. Ugh, its disgusting, Cecilia!
Cecilia dangled the tampon up to her nose and took a deep whiff, shutting her eyes. She loved the
stench, and she loved that he hated it. Take a good look, Roy. She spread her lips with her other
hand.
He trembled, balling his hands into tight fists, his knuckles whitening. A voice in his head said Run,

Roy, run! Get the fuck out of here. Tell her shes crazy. Take off, and never look back.
Another voice, stronger, more powerful, rose up inside him. She is crazy, but shes yours. You are
lucky. Her tits, her ass, her pussy, theyre all perfect. At least you have someone.
You want to fuck it? she teased, drawing him out of his daze.
He gulped, and turned towards her. He said nothing as he undid his belt and pulled down his pants.
He was totally defeated.
She wanted to laugh at his flaccid penis. Something wrong, Roy? She clenched her teeth and
grinned.
No, dear just need to warm up, he pursed his lips, took a step toward her, but she pushed him
away with her foot.
First, smell it! Its for you only! she commanded.
He bit on his thumb, holding his breath, and lowered himself to his knees. He did as she had
requested. He took a deep, agonizing breath, and the coppery taste invaded his nostrils and the back
of his mouth, making him gag. He stood up. Im sorry, I dont know if
Roy pushed himself into the bloody slot, and found his awkward rhythm. After a few seconds, he
climaxed.
Cecilia lay beside him with one leg draped over his naked hips, smiling and toying with his hair as
he slept. Ive boxed him in, she thought. If he only knew how much he loves me.
When Cecilia had visited her old home years ago, she stood with her mother at the top of the
basement stairs. People often told Cecilia she was the spitting image of her mother. Cecilias
mothers eyes were wrinkled and her midsection thick, but she kept herself up nicely. She always
wore sundresses in warm weather, and they flattered her figure. From behind, in the colorful floralprint dress, Cecilias mother still looked like she was a teenager.
Cecilia couldnt remember the conversation theyd been having at the time. The only thing she
remembered was catching a whiff of her mothers menstrual blood as they started down the top of the
basement stairs towards the fruit cellar. The faint smell incensed Cecilia, reminding her of all the
things her mother had withheld from her. Cecilia began to shake. Her mother had frowned
judgmentally.
What is it now, Cecilia? she said, Whats wrong with you now?
Cecilia whipped out the antique Derringer, and waved it wildly in her mothers face. The gun went
off. To this day, Cecilia swears it was an accident.

Two fat slugs ripped a gaping hole in Cecilias mothers forehead, and she tumbled down the stairs,
lifeless. Near the end of her fall, the hole in her forehead struck the jagged, two-inch stub of the iron
pipe that had once acted as a safety rail, and she was stuck there. Cecilia used the pipe to bash the
hole so appeared crushed in. The coroner ruled an accidental death.
Cecilia found this tragic. On the phone from her Waco office, Lady Derringer said that she
understood how these things could happen. Still, Cecilia found herself replaying the incident again
and again. In her minds eye, she saw her mothers blood splattered over the cement basement floor.
She could even smell it.
Cecilia often masturbated to the memory of this smell. One day, she placed an order for a Derringer
LM-5, a five-shot automatic with a thin handle. While lying in her bedroom, she often pleasured
herself with the tiny pistol, its internally heated space-age handle fitting perfectly in her slit. When
climaxing, she would fire a blank at her mothers portrait, which hung on the wall. Each shot kissed
her clitoris with a joyful, climactic feeling, which ascended the harmonic scale of orgasm until the
fifth shot splattered her emotional high across heaven. Who needed the jackrabbit?
She hid all of this from Roy.
Roy and Cecilia got on famously, perhaps because they went out in public only to go out for dinner.
They rarely spoke of anything material. Roy mistook his submissiveness for feelings of love. He
never argued with Cecilia, because he didnt like losing. No man likes being made to feel weak.
After a year of courting, Cecilia decided it was time for Roy to marry her. She bought the diamond
ring herself and proposed yes, marriage sounded good to Roy.
Cecilia made all the arrangements for the ceremony. She wanted to be married in a huge, gaudy,
four-hundred-year-old Roman Catholic cathedral with elaborate murals spanning the expansive
ceiling. To this end, Cecilia told the church administrator that she and Roy were both devout
Catholics.
On the special day, she wore a classic wedding dress. Instead of white, it was black with a black
veil. She wore the red globed earrings shed been wearing when she first met Roy; they stood out
against her pale skin. Roys oversized white suit sagged awkwardly, and his ugly brown bowtie was
too small.
You look like a princess, Cecilias dad said as they made their way to the chapel doors. His hair
was silver and his strong shoulders stretched the white threads of his suit jacket. A goddamn
princess. Daddys goddamn princess.
Ill be the prettiest woman there, wont I, Daddy? Her earrings and her jeweled gold, necklace
glistened as she and her father walked up the church steps.
Anywhere you go, little peach, youre the prettiest woman there, he said, squeezing her arm.
When they reached the top step, he stopped and looked at her, placing his massive hands around her

bare, lithe shoulders. You sure this asshole deserves you, Princess?
Yes, Daddy. She poked his chest playfully.
Now, theres going to be a lot of women here. Dont you go his strong, baritone voice faltered.
Dont go causing no trouble. He gave her shoulders a small shake.
As they neared the entrance, one of the large wooden doors creaked open to reveal a priest who
looked old enough to have laid the first brick of the church. The priest smiled warmly, but when he
caught sight of Cecilia, his smile faded.
Whowhat is this? the priest whispered.
Excuse me? Cecilia said.
Are you the bride? the priest asked her.
Of course I am! Cecilia said, holding up the flower bouquet.
You must go and change. You cannot wear black on your wedding day! This is a house of God, and
all of these rules are set in stone. He pointed to the exit.
Cecilias eyes flashed with anger, and she looked to her father for help. He grasped the priest by
the collar and pressed him against the wooden door.
Whaget your hands off me! The priest pushed Cecilias father away.
You fuckin with my daughter? Her fathers voice boomed.
Some of the guests turned around. Roy was standing at the front of the church. He started to walk
towards the commotion.
Sheshe cannot be married in this church! The rules are set in stone!
You want to be set in stone? Cecilias fathers voice was quiet and deadly.
He towered over the frail priest, casting a shadow over him, and held up a fist. The priest put up
his hands up in self-defense.
Daddy! Cecilia said sternly, though secretly, she loved it when her father defended her.
Youve already been paid. Now get to your fucking spot and read what you gotta read. Daddy
lowered his fist and released the priests collar.
The priest smoothed out his vestments and headed for the front of the church, stumbling past Roy.

Father? Roy said.

Some Catholics you are! the priest huffed in defeat.
Roy looked at Cecilia, tilting his head to the side. Is everything okay?
Back to your position, pipsqueak, Cecilias father said.
Roy brought his hands up, nodded and jogged back into place as the priest regained his composure.
The church doors closed, and the wedding music began to play. Cecilia and her father stood at the
back of the church, awaiting their cue.
I love you, Daddy, Cecilia whispered, wrapping her arm around his elbow.
You too, baby girl. His chest puffed out, ready for the walk down the aisle. Remember, he
whispered, no fighting. There are other people here, so we gotta be civil.
Look at all these women out there without men in their life. I guess women dont know how to trap
a man these days. Warmth radiated through her body.
How did you ever get Roy? her father asked.
Honestly, it was easy. Hes a pushover.
Well, hes so damn quiet. He chewed his lip, and shook his head. Will he take care of you?
Hes got a great job with a future at a genetics lab, she answered.
Her dad whistled.
Im gonna be fine, Dad.
The priest started the ceremony. As he spoke about the divinity of marriage, his frail voice echoed
against the high, painted ceilings and the ornate, stained-glass windows.
Youre as pretty as youre mom. Dads eyes became wet.
You remember how we found mom?
Ill never forget how she looked. Dad held his stomach. She was so beautiful.
It was a bad fall, Cecilia said.
A very bad fall.

Im sorry for the terrible memory, Daddy.

Sure, hon.
Come on. Lets have a good time today, Cecilia tugged at his arm.
Her dad blinked and tried to focus his attention on the ceremony. Over two hundred people lined
the pews. Most of the guests were Roys work colleagues.
When the music began, the two marched down the aisle. The ends of the pews were fitted with
white bows and pink flower arrangements. The priest was standing in the middle of the front arch
the most beautiful arch Cecilia had ever seen. It was a wicker frame laced with rambling vines,
covered with white roses in full bloom. Cecilia felt time slow down, almost to a standstill.
Therere over two hundred people here witnessing him state his loyalty to me.
Its a big wedding. The largest Ill ever attend, her father added. Hey, I remember when you
would pretend toilet paper rolls?
Yes, I remember. Those images burned inside her.
She used to craft penises and pretended they were hers. She lovingly curled her hair. She spent
hours forming papier-mch testicles and coloring them in. She taunted Tripod, her cat, who was
missing one leg. Cecilia would tease Tripod with the hairy, fake penis until Tripod clawed back with
her only front paw. Cecilia grabbed the cat and tossed it across the room, the cat smacking against the
wall. Tripod scurried to safety.
Youd make em look so real.
Oh Dad, dont remind me of that right now.
Of course she remembered that happy time. Even now, when Roy was not around, she played with a
dildo shed made herself, and with her Derringer automatic.
She felt a familiar feeling wash over her as she came to a halt under the arch. Her father settled
beside her. The anxiety took over, just as it had on the first night with Roy, and she felt a sense of
bubbling over, a tensing of her neck muscles, a painful seizure of her throat. Her eyes rolled back as
she felt a reptilian coldness run through her blood. She hissed, and gripped her fathers elbow with
her nails, tightly enough to make him wince. She lifted the veil to bare her face.
My demon reptilian friend, its not time yet. This is my day.
Her face returned to normal. She exhaled, and the demon left her alone.
The rest of the ceremony was spent in relative comfort by everyone except for the old priest. He
gathered up his things in a brown leather briefcase and left as soon as the vows had been completed.

Months after the wedding, a new addition showed up at Roys workplace. Clara. A microbiologist,
she was slight and blonde, and quiet. Roy liked her. They worked on a solution to maintain the
flexibility of artificial heart valves. He was attracted to her, because she seemed to be the opposite of
Cecilia. Clara worked in the same lab as Roy. One day, they were the only people in the lunchroom.
They sat at the same table, their eyes meeting briefly as they exchanged coy smiles and meaningless
words. Clara offered a brief respite from his home life. He found himself fantasizing about how it
would feel to touch her skin. Whenever he walked past her as she bent over a microscope, he wanted
to press his lips against her neck. But he didnt dare to, until one fateful night.
Storms had raged through the city that night. Roy arrived home late from work. Cecilia noticed the
car pull into the drive. A full ten minutes passed before Roy came through the door. His expression
was blank, and his shoulders slumped. His hair was plastered down with rainwater.
Welcome home. Youre a little late, Cecilia barked from her perch on the couch. There was a bit
of an edge to her voice.
Roy ignored her, and tugged off his wet jacket. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a
glass of milk.
Cecilia frowned. She sat up, calling out to him. Honey? Did you miss me? After some silence,
she continued. Come here!
I couldnt wait to be with you, Roy said flatly. He walked into the living room and sat beside her.
The storm has me gloomy.
Cecilia grabbed his tie and pulled him to her. She sniffed. She noticed a soft aroma surrounding
Roy, and she recognized the smell. What do I smell?
The wind outside rattled the windows.
What? Nothing. He avoided eye contact.
No, she said, keeping her voice calm. I smell another woman on you.
He bit his fingernail. Oh, come on. Thats crazy. You know that.
She rose to her feet, losing her composure. Whereve you been?
Work, he said softly.
A bolt of lightning cracked outside, shooting light across the room.
Roy. Youre lying. I can tell youre lying, and Im not doing anything until you tell me who she is!
Her eyes narrowed.

Cecilia, what are you talking about? He threw up his hands.

No! She screeched. She closed in on him. I smell her on youI smell her. Tell me, Roy. Tell me
who youve been fucking. As she drew close to Roy, she felt a something weighing on her chest.
I dont know what youre talking about. Roys heart pounded.
I doubt that, Cecilias voice rose.
Roy stayed quiet.
Cecilias face darkened, stark lines of anger etched on cheeks and forehead; her neck tendons
flared, muscles popping and snapping with effort. In all her naked glory, still hideous, bent and
tensed, inhuman.
Welcome back, my reptilian demon.
From the middle of the living room, Roy watched her with a morose sense of curiosity. He was
hoping to be forgotten. She spun around and let out a hiss. It was not her own. It was the voice of an
infinitely more savage being, awakening within her once again; the reptilian demon that dwelt within
her veins. Tell me what youve done.
Another loud crack of thunder shook the floor.
After a long pause, Roy exhaled. He watched her warily.
Tell me! Anger boiled inside her. Her nose never lied. She lunged at him.
Roy knew he was in real danger. He snatched the iron fire-poker and flailed it in her direction.
Stay back!
Cecilia stopped in her tracks. Her demon stared at Roy through blazing, forest-green eyes. Roy held
the poker in front of him with both hands, as if it were a gun and today was his first time on the range.
Ha, look at you! she hissed.
Please, Cecilia! I dont know what you think you smelled, but it wasnt
A coward right to the end, Roy? Cecilia roared with laughter.
Okay. Yes, I did it, he whispered. But once he had said it, he felt so good that he needed to say it
again. This time he shouted it, waving the fire-poker wildly. I fucking did it.
Did you, now? A blast of wrath and tightened jealously overtook her, wanting to see him bleed.

Roy thought about courage. It was a strange thing for men. Once the smallest amount of courage
dripped into a mans life, he was instantly and eternally changed. What do you expect? I love sex. It
was great! Roys voice was filled with newfound strength.
Well, who was it? Her voice was as deadly sweet as a female viper wrapping itself around its
prey.
That doesnt matter anymore. Roy looked at Cecilia and lowered the iron poker. Looking at his
wife now, he saw her for what she really was: not some horrible demon, but a petulant child who had
broken her own toy.
Do you love her?
I dont think so. I married you. He felt almost relieved. He knew that he and Cecilia would soon
be no more than a memorythat this was the last straw.
Did you fuck her? Her dark mood oozed like dye.
Cecilia, come on. His stomach twisted into a knot. He caught a glimpse of rainwater dripping
from the ceiling. It was rust-colored, almost red. He shuddered.
Was it good? she asked, sounding suddenly sweet. She sniffed the air. Oh yes, yes, it was. She
took another step towards him, whiffing the air loudly, wafting it about with one hand, and the other
running up her bare waist. Ah, yes, there was pleasure, wasnt there? She smiled. Did you make
her cum? Did she leave satisfied? Please tell me, sweetie, I really want to know.
Dread washed over him, and he went quiet again.
The smell enraptured Cecilia. She reacted like a kitten to catnip, and was suddenly all purrs. Her
hips rocked back and forth at the new moistness between her legs. The scent of another woman, of
another womans pleasure, it was too much. It filled her up.
Mmmm. It was good, wasnt it? Her voice sounded husky, her eyes droopily seductive. It was
good and juicy.
Stop it.
Cecilia now seemed sexy, seductive. She began to crack his newly established tough exterior. He
began to wonder whether hed made a mistake. The smells and sounds and sights swirled about Roy,
disorienting him. When he looked at her, he saw not a crazy, soon-to-be-ex-wife; but a scared, lonely
girl.
Did you lick her chatte? she asked.
Roy couldnt bring himself to answer.

Did you lick her pussy? she shouted, leaning forward. The sound in her ears pounded louder.
You little, no-good, cheating and lying boy! Wait right there, lover. Well work this out. Cecilia left
the room, leaving Roy with his thoughts. As he turned to replace the iron poker in its stand, he heard
her return. He looked up.
Yes, come in, my reptilian friend. Come and visit Roy and me.
Cecilia, what are youwhat are you doing?
Cecilia aimed the Derringer at him. She wiggled her hips, one hand rising and falling over her
chest. A devilish haze took over. She saw only him and his increasing fear fueling. And she felt only
hate.
No you cant. He backed into the fireplace, his knees quivering. Please, Cecilia. Ceciliano!
Put down the gun.
Youre going to pay, you queer-dicked bastard!
Roy ducked behind the couch. He was still holding the iron poker. Ceciliaoh God, please!
Grinning, she lowered the gun. She slid the barrel along her cleavage. Her eyelids fluttered. Beg
me, she said. Beg me for your life.
BuTh Roy dropped to his knees, unable to string together a sentence.
Youre nothing but a whore! Ill make you pay, you hear me! Cecilia reeled back in ecstasy.
Yes! he sobbed. Yes! He raised his hands, holding the poker above his head. Im nothing.
Please dont
A gunshot rang out. Roy flinched. The echo filled the other rooms. He slowly opened his eyes,
looking left, then right. He saw a hole in the dresser.
You dont wanna do this, he reasoned. Please.
Did you do it to her good? She walked over to him and squeezed his arm. The pounding in her
ears grew louder.
Please, he protested, his arm shaking. That hurts.
You stupid, small-dicked creep. If you think thisll be easier, you got another thing coming to you.
Youll know agony like nothing youve never felt. Spittle formed at the corners of her mouth.
Please. Roy cowered.

You think you can take a womans confidence and betray her? She jabbed the gun at his face.
She could make out the image of his face, but all else went black. She whipped the gun about and
hit him, loving the sound it made against his cheek. She heard something crack. The cut cheek spouted
blood. It spilled onto the carpet as he crumpled into a heap on the ground.
Roy gasped and cringed in pain.
She raced over to him on all fours, and licked his bloodied wound. Mmmm, she luxuriated in the
taste.
No! He clutched his face, but she clawed his hands away, digging her tongue deeper into the
wound, and lapping up his blood.
Cecilia, please put down the gun. Lets talk about this. I dont want
Shut up, she shouted, her face buried in his cheek. Im going to get one last taste of you.
One last taste? Roy thought, his eyes hardening. His cheek throbbed. Roy grabbed Cecilias hips,
twisting them to the sound of a small crack. She gave a guttural sound as he landed on top of her and
forced the iron poker against her throat. Cecilia spat into the air, hissing and clawing at him. The
banging in her head became a constant, low-pitched boom. Roy leaned on the iron bar, pinning her
down by the throat. He could hear snaps and pops.
Oh, God. His eyes widened with fear.
Ha! She grinned like an animal.
His face went white with terror. Suddenly, he felt her legs around his neck. The iron bar slipped out
of his hands. She raised the gun.
Mommy, he whispered, covering his face.
A bolt of lightning lit the room.
Cecilia threw back her head and laughed. Her open-mouthed laughter shocked her; it sounded like
gravel rolling in a cement mixer. The horrible sound echoed against every wall and reverberated
around the room.
Im your mommy now, and youre in terrible trouble, she whispered, lifting up his chin with her
toe of her shoe.
He stared at her in shock. His terror pumped through her veins, it radiated out of a spot in her
stomach out to her breasts, her arms, and her legs. His blood on her lips, his cries in the air. She felt
so close and wanted to be closer.

Now suck on this. She pulled from her hairy depths a tampon. Her noises changed to a non-stop,
high pitched tone.
No, no, stop! He crumpled.
Here! She pushed it near his mouth.
Ugh! He cried and gagged as the tampon waved close to his lips. This moved Cecilia, and she
doubled over for a moment, swaying back and forth, giving forth huffs of air.
He gagged when the tampon brushed his lips.
Her brain stirred crazy.
I love this! I adore it. Die in hell! She wanted more.
Please, Ill do anything you want, he barely breathed. He vomited.
She stood over him, laughing in cackles, and tossed the bloody tampon aside.
Never again will you fuck a woman, she sneered.
He spat vomit on the floor.
Cecilia opened her legs and placed the warm handle of the pistol into her slit, buffing it against her
clitoris. A wave of heat rushed over her; she felt its aura radiating. It spread to her fingers, her face,
and her whole body. She shook against her own hand, which plunged the handle of the gun deeper into
her slit. Grinding against it, she pulled at her long hair, her eyes blazed with lust.
Im moaning in delight, quivering, as it feels fucking lovely!
Roys body trembled.
Youre mine forever. Youre not for another womans taking. Her chest heaved. She moaned, and
then she pulled the trigger. The pistol handle bucked against her clit. Every sense stood upright and
bristled with excitement. Gray matter splattered against the wall.
Beats shooting blanks at poor moms picture any day. She laughed again.
The best sex weve had, my jackrabbit. She moaned and pulled the trigger, each shot recoiling
back into her clit.
She paused, heaving and moaning. She loaded five more shells into the Derringer. She wrapped her
finger around the trigger and squeezed, His dead body lay in a heap.

She shot the Derringer until it was empty. With each shot, she shuttered an orgasm, yelping with
pleasure. He lay there, limp and dead, with wounds riddling his body. Blood was splattered
everywhere.
Stumbling and slipping on the blood, she reloaded the tiny pistol again and stripped him of his
pants and boxers. Laughing, she aimed the Derringer at his penis. She fired at his genitals.
Finally, the noise in her ears stopped. The house was still. Cecilia heard the storm diminishing. The
wind died down, and the rain slowed to a tinkle.
Cecilia called the police and calmly told them she had used a gun to shoot her husband in selfdefense. She was arrested, and was later found guilty by a jury of eight women and four men. Her
story was reported by the news media, and she became a minor celebrity.
In the dull, gray confines of her prison cell, on the first day of her life sentence, Cecilia forged a
bond with her cellmate. The two of them started a relationship. Cecilia loved the odor of a woman. In
prison, she could always smell it. She was in heaven.
Whyd you kill him? Cecilias prison wife eventually asked.
Because he cheated. Cecilia scowled.
Is thats all?
Yes.
So he cheated on you, so what?
Come on honey. Im in love again.
And as her cellmate grumbled, Cecilia murmured, Im in love again. Its not time for you to meet
her.

Today
Roy was a brilliant scientist who strove every day to aid humanity. Tragically, his life was cut
short, so we will never know what he might have contributed to our world. The least we can do is to
learn from the horrible circumstances surrounding his death.
Last month, Cecilias cellmate was found in the prison laundry hamper. Shed been beaten to death.
The officer on duty described that it looked as if the victims body had been mauled to death by a
wild animal.
It is abundantly clear that people like Cecilia, who exhibit signs of extreme jealousy, combined
with mental illness are a risk to society.
All too often, people with controlling and abusive habits are thought of as self-empowered or as
knowing what they want, rather than being penalized for their wrongful acts. A course in how to
handle jealousy and anger might have provided Cecilia with the tools to manage her rage.
After Roys mother and Cecilias father had completed their grieving process, they came to realize
that the hole in our educational and mental health systems might have precipitated Roys murder. A
foundation opened in Roys name has developed a course to educate the public on the causes,
potential harm, and management of extreme jealousy. This course, if properly distributed, has the
potential to help the plight of thousands of people, if not millions. If an education program had been
instituted years ago, Roy might still be alive today.

Official Hook-up Guide for Men

A possessive woman may murder her cheating man.ccxliii.ccxliv ccxlv
It is possible for a woman to rape a man, and women have done so.ccxlvi ccxlvii
Jealousy may drive people to murder.ccxlviii
Every day in the US, four people are murdered by their partners.ccxlix
49% of all abuse is related to extreme jealousy.ccl
44% of marriages break up due to jealousy.ccli
70% of men and women surveyed have jealousy issues.
Womens invoked vindictiveness has no limits.cclii ccliii ccliv
Men will fall in love with a person who satisfies them sexually cclv
A woman may use marriage to bind a man exclusively to her.
A woman may use marriage to show friends she has landed a man.cclvi
Some women enjoy wielding power over men.cclvii
A Woman will hate other women who interfere with their man.cclviii cclix

Epilogue
More stories need be told. More voices must speak. Youtube videos are aching to be filmed. There
are books waiting to be written and movies itching to be produced. Changes are contingent on
harnessing the self and looking inwards until a new tomorrow dawns, bringing about a better future.
Daily nagging, fights, and arguments are torturous. Being invisible or disposable while providing
for a family without rest or dreams will kill the soul. Being beaten down in a relationship is the
common misery of too many. Dragging oneself up after the beat down is a Herculean task, but it can
be achieved. The further journey originates by learning from the past so that additional doors open to
unveil alternative options.
Some might modify their thoughts; others may change the direction of their lives because of this
book. Others could harness their own greatest asset, innovation; by unshackling the bonds that hold
each of us down; we can discharge those ties and free ourselves and allow for the invention of
tomorrow.
There is a world yet to be discovered, oceans to be explored and uncharted territories to be
conquered. Fellow men will design and build the infrastructures and technologies of the future.
Constructing new designs will empower our souls with life fulfillment. Men will dream, engineer,
and realize the yet-to-come super-space age era. Luckily, at this time, the world is exploding with
promise and ground-breaking advances. We are living in the Goldilocks zone of life. No matter if
your passion is carpentry, masonry, software engineering or stem cell research; now is the time to
dance your merry fandango. Now is the time to compose a symphony; a hymn for you and the
individuals close to you and for people of the world.
The best is yet to come.
Tim Patten
## end ##

The Full Manifesto of the Dominant Malecclx

Sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go its one of the best.
Woody Allen
Men like sex.
Its simple, ladies. This manifesto needed to be drafted is evidence that our society is a backwards
haven for boner-hating control freaks. There is a war in the world today, a battle against half of the
worlds population. It is not relegated to one geographical location. It is worldwide. This battle is not
over religion or political beliefs but freedom. It is not a physical war but a spiritual one. And while
its tactics differ, the aim of the offending party remains the same as the aim of all war-mongering
groups and that is control over the losing party.
For years, masculinity has been under attack. Not on a typical battlefield, where masculinity would
surely feel comfortable and even at home, but in the average American home, within the murky
nuances of every man/woman relationship. But how could females take battle against the fiber of
mans being, the impetus of evolution, the very reason we humans have managed to crawl from our
caves into the spotlight of existence?
Its simple; women refuse to acknowledge it as such, to give it credence in any way. Instead, they
mock masculinity, shame it, and aim to wipe it off the earth.
Masculinity is not a social idea that can be railed against or a set of values are decided upon; it is the
core state of all men. And it will never leave this universe.
But for women, hiding it is as good as killing it. Women refuse to acknowledge the masculine and
force normally masculine men into corners by collectively agreeing it is not socially acceptable to
practice mans natural emotions. This is a situation making women happy, while men grow
unfulfilled, and soon, the light of manliness will dim and suffocate.
Men in this scenario find a light of hope. It is simple. Men need to fight back against obscurity and
shaming by acknowledging our own masculinity. Simple, but not easy, because mens instincts are
vilified, the simplest measures to preserve them are buried under unfettered scrutiny. When men
acknowledge our sexual desires, we are set upon by sharp tongues and razor teeth crying for blood.
Everything in the world is about sex except sex.
Sex is about power.
Oscar Wilde
When men are asked by a woman, what you are thinking? Does she really want to know? No. Men
know this. If any man deviates from the NO or NOTHING response, Im thinking of nothing. If he

sheds a slight whiff of oxygen on his inner sex flame, he will find a fight on his hands. You will fight,
and she will fight back, hen-peck, and soon men find yourself apologizing for having had an honest
thought.
As Winston Churchill explained, having enemies is a good thingit means you stood up for
something. So let this manifesto show that I, Russell Carlson, and every other man on this planet, is
indeed a man, with male instincts, a male soul and male urges. We can easily separate sex from love.
The male urge is bound to our brains through so many thousands of years of evolution. Men are sex
machines.
While visiting the bank, or walking past a park, or being at work, men struggle to restrain the desire
to speak with women, to seduce women. Not for want of love. Sex is the sine-qua-non condition of all
living things, and men are naturally driven to have sex. Men just have sex. No love, no feelings,
nothing but the act itself. It is not an emotion but a natural drive.
Sex is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be
satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other.
Marquis de Sade
According to females, men are able to have sex, but only with one woman. Anything else is
considered cheating and he must be penalized for cheating. If man wants to foray into the world of the
unknown, he must petition his single female partner to allow it. He needs to sign in the promise in
triplicate. He must vow his truth forever. The female rules the nest and all visitors must follow the
rules. The female wont play unless her man is turned into a slug of only her bidding. This is her
nesting instinct to have children and keep all other women away from her home and man.
Who does one ask to go to the bathroom? Do we need special permission? If we get hungry in the
middle of the day, do we need to get a special nod before we engage in the act of eating? Do we fear
in asking for this permission of sex? This is what our current state of relationship rules left us with
men must abide, be patient, and seek permission from women to simply be.
So yes, I relented to the woman, sex with multiple women is cheating, is infidelity, is creeping, but is
so only because women penned the rulebook.
Iand all menare preconditioned to engage in sexual activity without affection. In fact, sex and
love are like oil and water. Sex is a thing we doit is an action, a biological imperative, and men
are designed, are hard-wired, to want to engage in this action with multiple partners.
Women get to have those thoughts. I have to have those thoughts. Youre a tourist in sexual
perversion.
Im a prisoner there. Youre Jane Fonda on a tank.
Im John McCain in the hut. Louis CK
When the urge for multiple sex partners is misunderstood, a relationship becomes toxic. Men will be
completely emasculated.

Men arent statues, after allmen do have feelings. We feel bad for our thoughts and actions if they
alienate us from our chosen woman. We dont want our mate to be jealous of a compulsion they
cannot begin to understand. This emotion of sadness is manipulated into shame through persistent
pestering, until men believe we are broken because of the innate task imposed upon us by nature in the
deepest recesses of our minds live on.
Infidelity is part of the human experience. But the word infidelity implies something badin
meaning not and fidelity meaning faithful. Am I not faithful to a woman whom I love if I love
her and her alone? So language is used to define the problem contains a hidden biases. Lets not call
it infidelity any longera new word, sexual freedom is more accurate. Sexual freedom is truthful.
If I said sexual freedom is part of the human experience, few people would cringe. This sexual
freedom, engrained in each man, arouses suspicion and distrust within the confines of a relationship.
This suspicion and distrust can be conquered, but not by forcing men to act against their nature. Not
by crippling the fabric of masculine instincts, drives and motivations. Human design pushes me
towards sexual freedom. Its the universal obligation keeping hominids from extinction, and the world
must catch up with this fact.
My primal impulses do not originate in the conscious mind or heart, but from a place embedded
inside; it is the universe acting through me.
These sex compulsions, often repressed, gather strength. No man can say no to these urges. Only
later, when the sun falls and the conscious mind fades and weakens the sex urge rears up again.
I awake from a lusty dream. Night has fallenit is dark in my room, pitch black, but I know the
woman sleeping softly next to me has not roused. I do not take notice of her. There is a yearning, a
deep-seated, diffused quiver rolling inside of me, directing me to the secrets of the night. It is
insatiable, this lust, and as the door shuts and I am into the night it is clear to me before asking what
my aim is: an unknown, engorged clitoris. The bite and suckling on a strangers silk skin. It overtakes
me in waves as I move, pursuing prey in heat, my mind static but for one urge.
The trajectory I follow is different every time. I follow fragrances without a scent. I seek to find
someone; who, I know not. I crave ripe eggs begging for sperm. I spirit along roads without a map
and travel unknown pathways in the darkness. I navigate unmarked thoroughfares, sail across
uncharted oceans. And I always find the target. Its always there, because this is how evolution
works. For an A, there is a B. And for my cock, for my need to plunge into a tight, soft slit there is a
woman pleading to be hit; a celestial bulls-eye beseeches me. I always take it long, hard, and deep. It
is never soft. It is deliberate and complete. Once completed, Im driven toward a second, a third and
more encounters, sometimes in the same night, until I am spent.
Afterwards, when I wake beside the woman I love, which I always do, I am truly happy. And it is
then, and for the first time since last I lay here, I make love.
As much as our society aims to deconstruct and emasculate men, it also realizes our sexual urge is
insatiable. Our society runs on this instinctthink TV commercials, think clothing makers, think

social media and think everyday interactionsit panders to it while at the same time admonishing its
existence.
Like a fish finding spawning grounds, an Aboriginal mystery, I caress my atavistic endeavors. My
attraction cannot be called aroused because this word implies some form of complicity, as if I
myself am pleased by the state of things; no, I myself stare in horror at what this drive has done to my
life, relationship with my wife, sleeping cycle. It captivates me, sends me hurtling onwards endlessly,
and all society has to say about this urge is fight it.
Fight it? My urge is not something to be fought, but a piece of humanity to embrace. This urge is less
inner demon and more inner angel, trumping our traditional notions of self-preservation for the sake
of preserving our very species. It is not an urge, but part of our solar systemit is the moon. Yes, the
moon, always with us, sometimes viewable and other times hidden away on our other side. It
generates millions of new people into the worlds emergency rooms. And when the time is ripe, it
turns me into a werewolf at night. It alters the landscape. High tides wash over previously dry land,
dragging with them the sensation of living. Secrets buried inside me detonate. I am flooded by
hormones. They wash over me, into me, through my every organ.
I am beaming, an unquenchable thirst hanging in my throat. The moon beams down on our street, on
me, and I beam back. I am the moon, and I am also the beast called forward. My howls are the howls
of highland wolves. They ricochet across foggy terrain. Here, in this night, under cover of darkness
and lit only by the moon, I dominate, manly and chock-full. Breaking into a run, I am duty-bound,
leaping majestically over obstacles and knolls. I am the wolf, the moon, the path I travel on. I journey,
my senses honed on finding my quarry, hastened by a full-on gust from a powerful drug gripping my
loins.
Animal reflexes waterfall inside my body cavities, welling up with supreme power. I attack with
unpolluted energy and she attacks back. Sex ensues rough and hard. Shes absconded and left
quivering in a post-coital ecstasy, dazed and undulating. She has been taken like she was never taken
before. I forget her now.
I leave. No emotions stir. I look back, knowing she is a kindred spirit. If I am the wolf, she is the deer.
It is a system. The kill is left gasping and I go on to another magnetic connection. When this planetsized sex organ, this irredeemable lust arrests me, I am merely its vessel. There is no calling, no
emission to sniff, no howl to produce. The attraction is older than such senses; it is primordial. Her
ovulation cycle calls to me. In the moment, muffled moans and nails on skin and the measured motions
of fucking produce no words. There are no words. Time holds no relevance. There is only the pursuit.
Only after I am sated do I notice the time, notice where I am, giving recognition to my growling
stomach. The quest is ended. Only then do I imagine my warm bed, the light covers, and the soft
pillow. Only then do I consider my family; only after such intercourse came and went do I think of my
wife.
My wife is not like the prey I feast upon in the night. Theres no love at night, just sex. I dont think of
how I look nor does it matter to me how the prey looks as I am wrapped inside of it. I feel nothing
toward her. She might be pretty, she might be ugly. I dont take note. Im caught inside a gravitational

force and am being hauled into the heaving center of a dynamic Black Hole, with boundless energy
and where nothing can escape.
All my bio-rhythms peak at their maximum levels simultaneously igniting the sex-hunger revving my
engine into a searing, greased, pounding machine, hitting on all cylinders. I feel a touch, or snag a
look, and the mystery desire asserts its predominance.
Sounds crazy, does it? All men feel this way. You hear men say I dont know why I cheated. I made a
mistake. It is no mistake. These types of answers are the result of a man trying to explain the
necessity of fulfilling an urge to a public who denies the validity of those urges.
Isnt it possible men have compulsions they cant restrain? Men themselves dont understand these
energies. They are moved by these emotions independently of their will, like a puppet dangling at the
end of a string, and nature, the invisible puppeteer, produces from them a dance. And what a great
dance it is.
Women always tell us to be a man, man up! Grow up and be a man, they say, thumping their foot.
Well, this is what being a man is all about. No manlier can a man be. Nor more natural can a man get.
Men, do not feel bad for not sharing this with wives. I dont think men are capable of telling their
women this truth. Women dont like hearing because they cannot control Mother Nature, who imbued
this planet of experience within us.
Cross your wifes line and she will be mad. She will be cruel. She will be violent. She will strike.
Men are not surprised by it. Men expect it. If we tell her she will hurt, jealous of the other woman.
We do not want to hurt our love, and so we keep silent. Mans protective nature overrides all else so
we lie. When discovered, we cannot plead our casewe are the Liar, the Asshole, and the Man I
Never Should Have Married. A man who tries to speak truthfully to their girl about his very real
urges and how he would like to handle them is not a simple chat. He will be berated, his loyalty
called into question, and years after the fightwhenever the woman needs an upper handshe will
bring up the time her man cheated. She will verbally abuse him. She will cry at him. She will argue
every day and withhold sex in some masochistic attempt to teach her puppy a lessononly share your
penis with me, and damn your own instincts.
Men dont want to tackle womens jealous type of life. Men are logical creatures, and logic dictates if
something is natural and unavoidable. If this unavoidable thing greatly distresses the one he loves, he
will keep it from her. He will protect her. If only women could understand this uncomplicated truth of
men, the world would be a more congenial place. The truth is simply men cant stop.
This is being a man.
Mans manifesto actions to partake;
1) Listen closely to your inner angel. Let it guide you. Feel for perhaps the first time in your life the
unbelievable sensation of fulfilling your biological destiny.

2) Tell your wife or girlfriend of these urges and your plan to embrace them. By being forced to
acknowledge your masculinity, they may get upset. They may even threaten to leave. Let them. It is
better to live in reality than to dilute it in order to live with someone who cannot handle it.
3) Spread the word. Be unashamed. Feel proud of your manhood.
These actions, diligently followed, will produce a different life for youa life of passion and
fulfillment, and one where you will look in the mirror and embrace yourself for being a man.
Sex lies at the root of life,
and we can never learn to reverence life until we know how to understand sex.
Havelock Ellis

Footnote References
i www.wattpad.com/23863-why-do-men-ignore-nagging-wives-it%27s-all-science#.UijFWj_ajSk
ii http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/sex-dawn/200805/inconvenient-truth-sexual-monogamy-kills-male-libido
iii answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20130429172254AAail74
iv globalgrind.com/2013/02/07/is-it-natural-men-cheat-step-out-on-partners-blog/
v men.webmd.com/guide/our-cheatin-hearts
vi newsbusters.org/blogs/tom-blumer/2013/06/24/next-society-wrecking-agenda-item-monogamy-unnatural
vii http://www.amazon.com/The-Monogamy-Myth-Personal-Recovering/dp/1557045429/ref=sr_1_1?
ie=UTF8_and_qid=1391356660_and_sr=8-1_and_keywords=monogamy+is+a+myth
viii www.livescience.com/32146-are-humans-meant-to-be-monogamous.html
ix www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2083692/Why-men-ALWAYS-cheat-love-partners-dont-want-leave-them.html
x magazine.foxnews.com/love/cheating-statistics-do-men-cheat-more-women
xi Not all men are compelled, but most are, especially in their younger (18-35) years.
xii www.positivelite.com/component/zoo/item/monogamy
xiii By author of Why I Cheat
xiv Not all women are compelled, but most are, especially in their younger (18-35) years.
xv By author of Why I Cheat
xvi By author of Why I Cheat
xvii www.history.com/shows/men-who-built-america
xviii By author of Why I Cheat
xix By author of Why I Cheat
xx Not all men fear abuse from women but many do hate the verbal abuse
xxi www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/advice/understanding-guys#slide-5
xxii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
xxiii www.askmen.com/dating/heidi/30_dating_girl.html
xxiv Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
xxv This is a good, common-sense rule.
xxvi www.motivation-for-dreamers.com/motivation-quotes.html
xxvii By author of Why I Cheat
xxviii www.livescience.com/32146-are-humans-meant-to-be-monogamous.html
xxix By author of Why I Cheat
xxx By author of Why I Cheat
xxxi www.askmen.com/dating/curtsmith_60/86_dating_advice.html
xxxii www.indianexpress.com/news/women-spend-8000xxxiii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
xxxiv www.wattpad.com/23863-why-do-men-ignore-nagging-wives-it%27s-all-science#.UijFWj_ajSk
xxxv Not all women do this; however many doit is important to discern.
xxxvi Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
xxxvii Not all women do this; however most doit is important to discern.
xxxviii marriage.about.com/od/communicationkeys/a/Manipulation-In-Marriage.htm
xxxix Not all wives are like this but many areuse discretion
xl www.businessinsider.com/how-much-it-costs-to-raise-a-family-in-the-us-2012-6
xli www.aish.com/f/m/48944586.html
xlii www.cnn.com/2013/06/21/opinion/laslocky-monogamy-marriage

xliii www.alternet.org/books/monogamy-natural
xliv By author of Why I Cheat
xlv dominiantwives.blogspot.com/2011/06/enslave-your-man.html
xlvi nymag.com/relationships/sex/47055/index1.html
xlvii kirstenuhler.com/2009/05/05/traditional-marriage-an-outmoded-institution/
xlviii www.legalmatch.com/law-library/article/traditional-marriage-alternatives.html
xlix From egworldwire.com and the National Coalition For Men
l www.familyofmen.com/domestic-violence/family-violence-report/
li This is a good, common-sense rule.
lii cryingoutforjustice.wordpress.com/2012/03/30/how-many-times-should-abuse-be-tolerated-by-jeff-crippen/
liii Male Abuse to Men By Women Provided by dvrc-or.org The Domestic Violence Resource Center
liv dvrc-or.org/domestic/violence/resources/C61/
lv dvrc-or.org/domestic/violence/resources/C61/
lvi dvrc-or.org/domestic/violence/resources/C61/
lvii dvrc-or.org/domestic/violence/resources/C61/
lviii www.indianexpress.com/news/women-spend-8000-minutes-a-year-nagging-their-husbands/635095/
lix www.helpguide.org/mental/domestic_violence_abuse_types_signs_causes_effects.htm
lx By author of Why I Cheat
lxi Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
lxii www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/women-are-more-violent-says-study-622388.html
lxiii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
lxiv en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Domestic_violence_against_men
lxv www.familyofmen.com/domestic-violence/family-violence-report/
lxvi Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
lxvii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
lxviii www.huffingtonpost.ca/franchesca-warren/sex-relationship_b_1659021.html
lxix Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
lxx This is a good, common-sense rule.
lxxi www.stevepavlina.com/blog/
lxxii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
lxxiii By author of Why I Cheat
lxxiv www.youtube.com/watch?v=FUlwUBFN2TE
lxxv www.batteredmen.com/bathamil.htm
lxxvi This is a good, common-sense rule.
lxxvii This is a good, common-sense rule.
lxxviii http://www.theguardian.com/science/2006/apr/19/genderissues.uknews
lxxix By author of Why I Cheat
lxxx verbalabuseofmen.com/
lxxxi forum.freeadvice.com/domestic-violence-abuse-38/tape-recording-domestic-violence-legal-235210.html
lxxxii innerself.com/content/self-help/behavior-modification/attitudes/3874-holding-a-grudge-by-marie-t-russell.html
lxxxiii www.buzzle.com/articles/nagging-wife.html
lxxxiv www.helpguide.org/mental/domestic_violence_abuse_types_signs_causes_effects.htm
lxxxv www.thefrisky.com/2009-07-28/what-scorned-women-have-done-to-get-even/
lxxxvi By author or Why I Cheat
lxxxvii www.airliners.net/aviation-forums/non_aviation/read.main/163911/
lxxxviii http://www.examiner.com/article/are-marriage-vows-outdated
lxxxix www.huffingtonpost.com/brittany-gibbons/im-not-a-fat-enabler_b_3573695.html

xc www.ask.com/answers/383232501/how-do-you-convince-a-girl-she-s-not-fat-even-though-she-thinks-she-is
xci Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
xcii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
xciii Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
xciv Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
xcv Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
xcvi Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
xcvii en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Man_cave
xcviii www.examiner.com/article/controlling-wives-bad-for-marriage
xcix www.mnn.com/family/pets/photos/7-incredibly-loyal-dogs/mans-best-friend
c yourlife.usatoday.com/parenting-family/pets/story/2012-01-24/How-dogs-spread-happiness/52756792/1
ci answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20130125133309AAlhsA4
cii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
ciii By author of Why I Cheat
civ Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cv www.lovepanky.com/men/guy-talk/why-do-men-need-guy-time
cvi http://manlyexcellence.com/2011/09/12/the-importance-of-male-companionship-by-samson/
cvii www.lovepanky.com/men/guy-talk/why-do-men-need-male-friends
cviii morris.patch.com/groups/theodore-e-b-einhorn-esqs-blog/p/bpask-the-attorney-can-i-get-permanent-alimony
cix www.askmen.com/daily/austin_150/166b_fashion_style.html
cx www.avoiceformen.com/activism/about/
cxi www.askmen.com/daily/austin_150/166b_fashion_style.html
cxii www.yourtango.com/201059594/what-makes-77-percent-women-jealous
cxiii www.wvwnews.net/story.php?id=10870
cxiv www.legalzoom.com/marriage-divorce-family-law/divorce/men-v-women-who-does
cxv ex-wivescanruinlives.synthasite.com/things-vindictive-women-may-do.php
cxvi Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
cxvii 56% of divorced men say they hate their failed marriage.
cxviii www.clearbankruptcy.com/financial-literacy/10-leading-causes-of-bankruptcy.aspx
cxix www.mckinleyirvin.com/blog/divorce/32-shocking-divorce-statistics/
cxx en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Briffault
cxxi www.ejfi.org/family/family-37.htm
cxxii antimisandry.com/marriage-divorce-children-choice-men/15-000-18-000-divorced-men-commit-suicide-every-year-17392.html
cxxiii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cxxiv golddiggernation.blogspot.com/
cxxv Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cxxvi prostitution.procon.org/view.resource.php?resourceID=004119
cxxvii www.ask.com/answers/47590221/what-does-chivalry-is-dead-mean
cxxviii www.askmen.com/dating/heidi/32_dating_girl.html
cxxix abclocal.go.com/kgo/story?section=news/7_on_your_side&id=8290087
cxxx simplemom.net/debt-isnt-sexy-and-other-marriage-lessons/
cxxxi fayobserver.com/articles/2013/06/03/1259746
cxxxii https.//www.firstwivesworld.com/index.php/community-talk/item/5295-is-sex-truly-an-absolute-physical-need-for-men
cxxxiii www.bostonglobe.com/business/2013/05/26/women-graduates-elite-colleges-more-likely-opt-outworkforce/wQAmXRV9WMWtFKph26ORBM/story.html
cxxxiv This is a good, common-sense rule
cxxxv By author of Why I Cheat

cxxxvi news.discovery.com/human/evolution/men-women-shopping-evolution.htm
cxxxvii economix.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/12/07/money-fights-predict-divorce-rates/?_r=0
cxxxviii http://www.bullyonline.org/related/femviol.htm
cxxxix articles.sun-sentinel.com/1993-05-19/news/9302120710_1_girls-night-guys-girlfriend
cxl Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cxli www.lovepanky.com/women/understanding-men/how-to-manipulate-men
cxlii www.psychologytoday.com/blog/he-speaks-she-speaks/201101/the-crying-game
cxliii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cxliv Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cxlv Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cxlvi www.patheos.com/blogs/afewgrownmen/2012/08/the-power-of-her-sex/
cxlvii www.experienceproject.com/question-answer/Why-Women-Use-Their-Awesome-S-E-X-U-A-L-Power-To-Control-ManipulateAnd-Get-What-They-Want-From-Men/500077
cxlviii www.patheos.com/blogs/afewgrownmen/2012/08/the-power-of-her-sex/
cxlix www.angryharry.com/esWomenManipulateMen.htm
cl www.experienceproject.com/question-answer/Why-Women-Use-Their-Awesome-S-E-X-U-A-L-Power-To-Control-Manipulate-AndGet-What-They-Want-From-Men/500077
cli www.huffingtonpost.com/juliette-frette/jealousy_b_1914374.html
clii evolution-x.com/strass/why%20women%20are%20mean.htm
cliii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cliv www.guttmacher.org/pubs/FB-Unintended-Pregnancy-US.html
clv www.nytimes.com/2010/04/07/opinion/l07bully.html?_r=0
clvi Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
clvii www.askmen.com/top_10/dating_top_ten_60/86b_dating_list.html
clviii www.experienceproject.com/question-answer/Why-Are-Women-So-MeanCruel-To-Men/621284
clix Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
clx www.lovepanky.com/women/understanding-men/how-to-manipulate-men
clxi intelligentwomenreadromance.wordpress.com/2010/04/29/because-women-will-use-pregnancy-to-get-a-man/
clxii www.lovepanky.com/women/understanding-men/how-to-manipulate-men
clxiii computer.howstuffworks.com/internet/social-networking/information/social-networks-honesty.htm
clxiv socialnewsdaily.com/15070/social-media-is-making-us-less-honest/
clxv www.yourtango.com/201059594/what-makes-77-percent-women-jealous
clxvi www.rolereboot.org/culture-and-politics/details/2012-04-is-marriage-a-form-of-peer-pressure
clxvii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
clxviii m.qfak.com/livelihood/society_culture/?id=b567998
clxix Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
clxx www.indianexpress.com/news/women-spend-8000-minutes-a-year-nagging-their-husbands/635095/
clxxi www.wvwnews.net/story.php?id=10870
clxxii www.comscoredatamine.com/2011/12/women-spend-more-time-social-networking-than-men-worldwide/
clxxiii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
clxxiv www.apartmenttherapy.com/escape-from-cle-91119
clxxv Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
clxxvi forums.plentyoffish.com/datingPosts7833318.aspx
clxxvii www.huffingtonpost.com/charlotte-hilton-andersen/women-slapping-men-cute-o_b_905323.html
clxxviii www.psychologytoday.com/blog/insight-is-2020/201207/how-define-physical-abuse-in-relationships-slap-push
clxxix This is a good common-sense rule.
clxxx This is a good common-sense rule.
clxxxi www.thenationalcampaign.org/why-it-matters/pdf/poverty.pdf

clxxxii www.thenationalcampaign.org/resources/pdf/fast-facts-unplanned-key-data.pdf
clxxxiii www.thenationalcampaign.org/resources/pdf/fast-facts-unplanned-key-data.pdf
clxxxiv money.cnn.com/2013/08/14/pf/cost-children/
clxxxv By Author of Why I Cheat
clxxxvi By Author of Why I Cheat
clxxxvii Not all women do this; however, many doit is important to discern.
clxxxviii By Author of Why I Cheat
clxxxix m.qfak.com/livelihood/society_culture/?id=b567998
cxc answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20090707120931AAupZVx
cxci Not all women do this; however, most doit is important to discern.
cxcii ideas.thenest.com/love-and-sex-advice/getting-pregnant/slideshows/things-cant-do-after-baby.aspx
cxciii gettinbetter.com/blackmail.html
cxciv Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cxcv answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20130508175536AASOy8T
cxcvi en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Manipulated_Man
cxcvii talkaboutmarriage.com/general-relationship-discussion/14698-my-wife-wants-kids-i-do-not.html
cxcviii By Author of Why I Cheat
cxcix jezebel.com/5787295
cc www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2013/03/13/false-rape-allegations-ra_n_2865823.html
cci en.wikipedia.org/wiki/False_allegation_of_child_sexual_abuse
ccii blogcritics.org/marriage-and-children-are-no-longer/
cciii www.vhemt.org/biobreed.htm
cciv mediamatters.org/research/2013/07/16/media-ignore-why-women-need-access-to-abortion/194901
ccv www.ready-for-childbirth.com/birth-decisions.html
ccvi voices.yahoo.com/the-marriage-alternative-keep-relationship-183269.html
ccvii www.pamf.org/teen/sex/birthcontrol/condom.html
ccviii www.thefrisky.com/2009-07-28/what-scorned-women-have-doneccix http://newsbusters.org/blogs/tom-blumer/2013/06/24/next-society-wrecking-agenda-item-monogamy-unnatural
ccx http://www.cnn.com/2013/06/21/opinion/laslocky-monogamy-marriage/
ccxi http://www3.scienceblog.com/community/older/2001/E/200115758.html
ccxii http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2286682/Monogamy-natural-men-AND-women-equally-promiscuous-TED-lecturerreveals.html
ccxiii http://www.dearpeggy.com/myth.html
ccxiv http://www.thecouplesstudy.com/?page_id=27
ccxv http://www.womansday.com/sex-relationships/dating-marriage/infidelity-in-marriage
ccxvi http://www.amazon.com/The-Monogamy-Myth-Personal-Recovering/dp/1557045429
ccxvii http://www.thecouplesstudy.com/?page_id=27
ccxviii http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/sex-dawn/200805/inconvenient-truth-sexual-monogamy-kills-male-libido
ccxix http://arabia.msn.com/lifestyle/men/2035404/are-men-meant-to-be-monogamous/
ccxx http://reasonableredneck.wordpress.com/2013/02/23/the-coolidge-effect/
ccxxi http://newsbusters.org/blogs/paul-wilson/2012/01/05/huffpo-monogamy-killing-marriage
ccxxii http://www.livescience.com/32146-are-humans-meant-to-be-monogamous.html
ccxxiii http://www.positivelite.com/component/zoo/item/monogamy
ccxxiv http://www.rickbeckman.org/men-of-the-bible-with-multiple-wives/
ccxxv http://www.alternet.org/story/155904/why_is_monogamy_idealized_when_most_people_aren0001t_monogamous
ccxxvi http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20100908192652AAFBiPD
ccxxvii http://www.starpulse.com/news/Diana_Walker/2012/05/21/10_celebrities_married_multiple_times_?page=5

ccxxviii http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-456789/Genghis-Khan-The-daddy-lovers.html
ccxxix This is good a common sense rule
ccxxx http://www.positive-deviant.com/managing-expectations.html
ccxxxi http://www.love-sessions.com/monogamy.htm
ccxxxii http://www.sosuave.com/articles/jj/womenwant.htm
ccxxxiii Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
ccxxxiv
http://www.slate.com/blogs/xx_factor/2013/05/23/nytimes_on_lybrido_women_get_bored_with_monogamy_faster_than_men.html
ccxxxv http://magazine.foxnews.com/love/cheating-statistics-do-men-cheat-more-women
ccxxxvi Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
ccxxxvii http://dsc.discovery.com/tv-shows/curiosity/topics/big-question-does-monogamy-make-us-happier.htm
ccxxxviii http://www.salon.com/2013/01/04/study_the_non_monogamous_are_as_happy_as_other_couples/
ccxxxix http://www.yidio.com/show/the-men-who-built-america?utm_source=Bing_and_utm_medium=Search_and_t_source=64
ccxl http://www.history.com/news/history-lists/5-things-you-may-not-know-about-the-men-who-built-america
ccxli http://usgovinfo.about.com/cs/censusstatistic/a/womenspay.htm
ccxlii http://www.amazon.com/Why-Men-Earn-More-Startling/dp/0814472109/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8_and_qid=1391443879_and_sr=81_and_keywords=why+men+make+more
ccxliii http://www.pathwaytohappiness.com/relationship_jealousy.html
ccxliv http://www.wikihow.com/Handle-Jealousy
ccxlv dvrc-or.org/domestic/violence/resources/C61/
ccxlvi dvrc-or.org/domestic/violence/resources/C61/
ccxlvii www.abs-cbnnews.com/nation/regions/06/18/13/jealous-woman-who-killed-husband-may-go-scot-free
ccxlviii http://www.cnn.com/2013/10/09/living/chris-brown-female-on-male-rape/
ccxlix Not all women rape men
ccl dvrc-or.org/domestic/violence/resources/C61/
ccli domesticviolencestatistics.org/domestic-violence-statistics/
cclii www.livestrong.com/article/133119-jealousy-love/
ccliii articles.sun-sentinel.com/2010-04-02/news/sfl-marriage-jealousy-033110_1_jealousy-marriage-trust-issues
ccliv samanthajoytavo.wordpress.com/2009/09/10/stop-with-the-evil-vindictive-bitch-routine-already/
cclv www.thatbitchbook.com/reader_stories.html
cclvi Not all women are like this but many areuse discretion
cclvii https.//www.firstwivesworld.com/index.php/community-talk/item/5295-is-sex-truly-an-absolute-physical-need-for-men
cclviii answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20120321232315AAxXCwe
cclix www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/10/25/o.glass.ego/index.html
cclx www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2344785/Theres-women-hate-women-succeeding-Thats-stabbing-says-Katie-Hopkins.html
cclxi. www.divinecaroline.com/life-etc/friends-family/top-ten-things-make-woman-threatening-other-women
cclxii. This has been penned by several authors as their honest experience it did not appear in the newspaper.