Monday, May 4, 2009

I’m Loyal, but stinky. Marriage & Cycling.

We’ve been married for a long time. And we’ve never cheated or even so much as done anything to make the other feel jealous. We are cool with having a crush on a celebrity, but that’s as far as it goes. Or at least that's as far as it went till recently…

We’ve always kind of had this unwritten rule in our marriage that we don’t wear cologne or perfume when we’re apart. Packing cologne in my bag for a business trip would be comparable to coming home late on a rainy night with lipstick on my collar.

A while back, when I first started bike riding again after taking the winter off. I thought it wise and polite to splash on a dash of smell good so my ‘bike funk’ wouldn’t offend anyone. The plan backfired when the wife was offended that I would cycle alone while smelling like a jigalo. She took it as a sure sign I was on the prowl. She was wrong. But so was I. I explained it was only a preventive measure for the betterment of all those I am upwind of. But I knew I had crossed the line and sheepishly apologized and swore I wouldn’t fragrance myself again without her there to beat off the throng of aggressive hussies chasing after me and my bike. That was at about 8pm. She nodded in agreement and we hit the hay, drifting off to dreamland in each-others arms, very much in love.

*SMACK!* I woke up to a brutal closed handed smack to the upper arm around 5:30am. In my groggy incoherent sleepy state I looked up at my precious sweetheart only to find her scowling at me with another fist cocked back by her ear and her eyes fixed on my nose.

I quickly woke up fully! Propped myself on an elbow and said, “What, What’s wrong?” She responded through clenched teeth “your CHEETING!” “You cheated on me! And you’ll do it again!” And with that she started kicking and pushing me with her feet over the edge of the bed. I was thinking two things at the moment; 1.With legs this strong she should bike more. And 2. If someone is going to have a dream like that, it’s sure unfair that it’s her not me!

Once she calmed down she explained, still very angry, might I add. That overnight I had cheated on her with a red-haired girl that rides bikes. And that she saw it all. I’m such a pig she told me.

If this ever happens to you boys. This is where you do what you can to block the punches and apologize at a rate that would make most auctioneers tip their hats.

I didn’t know what protocol was, and dug my hole deeper by asking what happened in the dream. Oh yea! Bad idea. The last thing a marriage therapist would want the victim to do is recant the details, and I should have acted less interested in who I was with besides my wife… She scorned, “she’s bigger than me, but you don’t care because she is ssssoooo BAD, and YOU LIKE THAT!”

Half angry and half sad she goes on to tell me, “Pig, you’re a pig!” And that she had wavy red hair. (hmm, not what I had pictured, but go on…) (another bad idea, I should have cut her off) she went on to tell me about what a dog I am, and how she should have known better when we first met.

It’s about now that I remember the cologne from the day before, and it’s all starting to make sense. I shift gears and instead of trying to fish more details out of her dream for my own ego I put on the ‘sweet husband’ persona and assure her that it was just a dream and that I would turn and run if ever (like it’d ever happen!) a girl so much as noticed me.

So. I’ve learned another lesson out of the husband textbook. And I’ll share it with my readers. “Tis better to stink on your bike, than to stink in her dreams.”

Now, if you catch a funky odor on the trails from a guy with a gleaming gold band on his left hand racing for home and his lovely wife, you’ll know it was I.

My apologies to your nose, but at least I wont be found on a unicycle because she took half my bike in the divorce.

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