Cheaters Club

I believe there is a clandestine club somewhere with a secret membership roster - perhaps even more heavily guarded than the Illuminati chambers. No worries though, you won't have to call up Robert Langdon for this.

All you need to do is ask Cheating Candy, that adulterous friend of mine, for an exclusive referral. Since unlike the sweet confection she's named after, Candy's just a bit of a tart. And more than a little prone to infidelity.

O curse of marriage,
That we can call these delicate creatures ours
And not their appetites!

I'm sure that would be her husband's first words if she'd told him. Till now however, a potent combination of christian guilt and shame has kept her from confessing anything to her cuckolded husband. If ever.

Exactly what I would have told her if I had. Rather than a pointless public humiliation for the both of them, I believe the punishment for such betrayal is painful silence on her part. Though I swear I never told her that! Somehow I managed to keep my own hasty counsel to myself.


Paul : All dressed in penitent black?
Candy : Is it working?
Paul : It would work better with a scarlet letter.
Which is more than I can say when Candy attempted to find some vindication for her sorry self. Obviously she believes that excusing herself would make her Madison County disappear.

Candy : I never planned the affair, you know.
Paul : Right...
Candy : You don't believe me? It just happened!
Paul : No, you're not gonna use that excuse with me. A drunken one-night-stand just happened. If you're having an affair, it couldn't have just happened.
Candy : He worked with me in the office. We just saw each other everyday. We couldn't help it.
Paul : That's a lousy cop-out, Candy. You can see an affair coming from miles away. You don't just suddenly fall into one another. You could have easily nipped those feelings in the bud if you wanted to. Surely no one's forcing you to spend time with him outside of work.

Really. That old cliched excuse of it just happened?

Come on, you gotta admit that's totally lame. Crazed maddening lusts don't just happen, not unless you put yourself in temptation's path. Even our love-struck swain Romeo took a little time-out before climbing up fair Juliet's balcony. If he'd been otherwise engaged to someone else, he could have just walked the other way rather than search for her. To put it simply, even if a shockingly forward Juliet had jumped bodily into his waiting arms, he still could have refused the catch.

No, I'm married.

Simple enough phrase, I think.

Rather than search for justifiable excuses, why not just admit to making a horrible mistake? In this case, 'I couldn't help myself' is not a valid excuse. Folks these days don't seem to know how to take responsibility for their actions, no matter how misguided! Just admit to wanting an affair dammit!