She said Why, even though she already knew, it was up in her throat like a horse vitamin. She said, If you are about to say something that's going to crush me, then don't take me to my favorite restaurant and do it to me over wine. Pull over, be a man, and do it now.

This story always upsets me. Not because I imagine my parents in these roles. But because I wonder what they'd think if they knew I've been the other woman.

I sat down to write this eighteen different p250 skins ways. I thought, What does someone want to read about affairs? You've had one and you want to relate to something. You haven't had one but you fantasize about the girl with the keyhole shirt and the shoes your wife would call cheap. Her name starts with a C or a G. You know you and your partner will never have one, but you remember the time your wife, your husband, did not answer the phone for five car-accident hours.

The Lorax has reddish-brown hair and lives in Queens. She's solid and talks a lot.

Every time I meet a married woman, I think about the things she does that likely annoy her husband. I think a great deal about the evanescence of sexuality. The marrow missing from the bone. That's what I want to know. If you're going to wreck some other person's world, what's the good thing you're going to get?

My friend Cobb is from Kentucky. Now he lives in New York, but before he was married to a woman I'll call Blondie. She was hot and perfect-familied, drank a lot, like a college girl. She had a sister, Meg, with dark hair, younger but more mature and sleek. Cobb was happy but not complacent. His wife was both.