Okay, I admit it. I’m not perfect. I don’t like vegetables. I tend to look down on anybody from the South named Earl or Cletus. I sometimes just mouth the words during the national anthem instead of singing. And last month, when a volunteer knocked on my front door collecting for Greenpeace I told him I gave at the office. I hadn’t. What can I say? I’m not perfect.
So when my wife took both our girls recently on a two-week trip out of town, I had the entire house to myself. I have never had that much independence and freedom in the entire 24 years of our marriage. And well, a man has certain needs, if you know what I mean.
While my wife and kids were away, something I am not proud of, well, it just happened. I got swept up by a woman who just wowed me. I started spending time with her each evening, in my otherwise empty house. I would close my blinds for privacy and take the phone off the hook. And then I would just stare at her somewhat awkwardly – usually saying very few words. In my defense, the attraction was purely intellectual. Before I knew it, a most unexpected long distance relationship began. You see, I live in Seattle. She lives in New York City.