A Reasonable Man

I met this Gerald Davis character briefly at Lucy's Christmas party, and I knew what was on his mind right from the kick-off. I often wonder how many women, especially married ones, are charmed by what they see on the surface. And how many men, especially their husbands, spot that smarmy playboy beneath. Suffice it to say I disliked him within minutes. But it was my wife's company party; I'm a reasonable man so I kept the peace. And I didn't object (out loud anyway) when she danced with him too often; even when she allowed her arse to be squeezed. Prior to the party, Lucy had talked about Gerald Davis in glowing terms, but his name never cropped up again after it. It's possible to be suspicious about things which are unsaid.

Then it was springtime; everything turning green, the air full of birdsong. The sap was rising, and not only in the trees.

"I want to go out to dinner sweetie." said Lucy.

"That's a good idea babe; how about Friday? You choose the restaurant."

"I mean I want to go to dinner with someone else."

"Now why am I getting the impression you mean a man? Could it be the colour of your cheeks? Or perhaps it's the guilty way you're looking down at the table, rather than into my eyes."

She looked up.

"It would only be dinner; the fact that it is dinner with a man is irrelevant. You wouldn't object if it was a woman - it's not as if we'll be having sex."

"But it is relevant. You are not going out with a woman. And you immediately feel the need to quantify this date by saying you won't be having sex. Why did you mention it? I didn't."

"It isn't a date." she replied, avoiding my question.

"From where I'm sitting it is be a date. You have a choice right now Lucy. Admit it; call it what it really is, or this conversation is over."

"OK, I want to go out on a dinner date with a man. But I'll say it again: I will not have sex with him."

"When is this date happening?"

"I don't know yet. I'm just discussing with you."

"And who are dining with?"

"I don't know that either."

"Will it be in a hotel restaurant, so your unknown companion can book a room? Will you dance perhaps; do a little public groping?"

"Not necessarily."

"Then let me say this: dinner is eating a meal, having a glass of wine and a pleasant conversation. It does not take more than two hours. Go one step beyond that and you're looking at divorce."

"Are you saying you would throw away twelve years of marriage if I had I had one night of mere flirting?"

"No; I'm saying that's what you'd be doing."

"I think you're being unreasonable. All I want is a night out in the company of another man. You saw me flirting at the Christmas party."

"The key part of that sentence is 'You saw me'.Do you intend to take me on your date as an observer?"

"No, of course I don't."

"Then the comparison doesn't work. Are you quite certain you don't have a particular man in mind?"

"Yes."

"Somebody at work you fancy perhaps?"

"No."

"So let me get this straight; this is to be a dinner date with a man you have not yet chosen. There will be absolutely no sex or even foreplay. And when you have picked a suitable partner, he will come and pick you up at our house, shake hands with me, and promise to have you back by, say, ten thirty?"

"Yes I think that covers it. I will not ask for permission -- you don't own me. But I will ask you to agree."

"I don't like to be thought of as an unreasonable man. So, yes, I agree; with three small conditions."

"Fine, what are they?"

"The first is no stockings or sexy underwear; and no secret condoms in your handbag."

"That's fair." said Lucy.

"And secondly I think it would be better if you picked someone from where you work. It will be safer, and seem more natural if you already know the man; if only slightly."

"I agree; that makes sense."

I thought it would. I watched her face carefully.

"Finally, as you are looking for the company of a man who is not your husband -- nobody specific -- you may not choose Gerald Davis!"