I recently started seeing a guy I met through work. We’re not coworkers, thank god—his boss is a client of ours. I had been sort of on the fence about whether I am that interested in him because our schedules conflict so much that our “dates” are more like come-over-and-fuck-me’s. Not really what I want, but he’s great in bed, so I find myself a little more invested than I should be.
Today he emailed, asking for a “small loan” to hold him over until payday. Funny that he was available to work with my schedule in order to pick up that potential loan, but we’ve never been able to coordinate dinner or drinks in public. We’ve only been “dating” a few weeks, so I feel like this is out of line. He was nice about it when I told him I couldn’t do it, but what the hell? I’m not crazy, he’s crazy, right?
—Bank of West Vagina
There is nothing wrong with paying for sex. Especially good sex. But if you’re going to pay money for sex, that’s something that should be worked out prior to naked times. I have no idea whether or not this guy is crazy (he’s certainly presumptuous and a bad money manager with lax boundaries), but you would be if you loaned him the dough. Onward, sister.
One of the dads at my daughter’s school always emails me separately from our group emails. He’ll joke about one of the other parents, complain about his wife or kids, or ask about my work . . . it’s innocent, but when the parents get together, his wife is cold to me and he’s extra attentive. I’m not absolutely uninterested in an affair. I mentioned it to my husband, but he just shrugged. (I do wish he were more bothered.) It is flattering to be flirted with, but I’m really not interested. Should I just write it off as harmless and enjoy the attention while I’ve still got it? Or tell him to get lost?
—Is Flirting Cheating?
If you were cheating, you’d be doing a crap job of it, because the first rule of Cheat Club is to not talk about Cheat Club. And you—you’ve already mentioned it to your husband. . . so, no. You’re not cheating.
Are you watching “Togetherness” on HBO? Among other things, it’s about the ups and downs of a long-term relationship with kids. Much in the vein of “Thirtysomething,” (I’m old) two of the four protagonists are neurotic, upper-middle-class white people discovering that they don’t really want to fuck each other anymore. I don’t know how it’s going to turn out, but both are flirting with people outside their marriage.
Will the husband end up getting high on ayahuasca and banging the elder hippie as portrayed by Mrs. Ted Danson, Mary Steenburgen? Will the wife fellate the handsome divorced Latino dad at the PTA bake sale? We don’t know. It could go either way. But that’s a TV show and presumably yours is a real live life.
The red flag (pale pink, really) is that your husband didn’t respond in what you would consider an appropriate manner. Here is this dad at school sending you fairly innocuous emails and when you tell your husband about it, he shrugged. You can either translate that to mean that he doesn’t give a shit about you or what you do, or—and this is more likely the case—you could just take it as affirmation that he trusts you completely and knows you wouldn’t step out on him with some tryhard from the Mothers Against New Math listserve.
What would you have him do?
Believe me, much better to be married to a chill guy than some jealous freak who’s always hacking into your email and running black-light tests on your chonies. If you want him to be more romantic, tell him. If you want him to fuck you up against a wall, tell him that too. Women always think men behave (or don’t) a certain way to spite us. When really . . . they’re just not that complicated. Tell him.
As for that other knucklehead, if he’s on your nerves, pull an “accidental” reply all the next time you suspect he’s sniffing around. That should put an end to that.
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