The women who know of my ways sometimes ask: “How would you feel if your wife cheated on you?” This question is supposed to make me think. “I would hate it,” I tell them without hesitation, “I would absolutely hate it!” “Why then do you cheat on her?” they grin victoriously, as though they have cornered me at last. As though they have been absolved of their complicity in my crimes, that is. I just shrug my shoulders in dismay at this misappropriation of logic.

Addendum (December 14, 2000)

Unfortunately, I failed to point out that these conversations with well-meaning and sharp-minded women would almost always take place just after I made love to them. More to the point, such conversations would typically take place in bed while we were still breathless and sweaty, our juices still oozing from our crotches. Quite often, but not always, the bed would be Lauren’s. And all this would be entirely lost on my tender accomplices. Women and logic, my ass.