But somehow, I know it sounds stupid, she was so open about itand nobody in her business batted an eye, I just never thought she did anything besides ... little flirting. So I'm washing my hands and I see besides the paper towel dispenser onthe tile walls amidst the usual scrofulous written invitations, advice, andsuggestions, and among all the gay 'show hard' etc notes I see my wife'sname. It popped right out at me. And it wasn't a 'for a good time call Sheila' or like that either. I saw. My fiance and I became increasingly distant, as one would expect. She was spending more and more time at the bars, I hardly noticed or cared. She was fed up with my depressed moping around, my sudden out bursts of anger, my ability to mimic a sloth every day, but most of all, she was fed up with me pushing her out and away. If our sex life existed, it would have resembled a limp noodle trying to squeeze through a strainer. My mind was entirely lost to the haze of time and my sex drive went with. More

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