Last Friday of the Month Date Night, Month One:
After fifteen years of marriage we were in a sexual rut. My wife Patti decided to spice up our love lives after reading an article in some woman's magazine about how to rekindle the spark. I found out about her plan when I overheard her discussing it with her sister on the phone that night. I just caught the tail end of the conversation but she seemed agreeable to trying most of the tips. It took a while but I was able to track the article down on-line...Taking a Walk on the Wild Side Can Save Your Marriage. It claimed to have been written by a woman but the suggestions were 100% man. The article said the wife should treat her husband like they were clandestine lovers going out on a secret rendezvous and that she should be a mysterious aggressor. It said she should surprise her lover by dramatically changing her appearance including her hair color and style, her choice of clothes, and through discrete public nudity. It encouraged the wife to forget her ego and morals for one night a month of sexual abandon..."be the woman your husband dreams about when he masturbates." it encouraged. Another favorite line was "no skirt is too short nor blouse too sheer when it comes to saving your marriage." Lastly, it said that since the goal was to rekindle the fire she should make up a fantasy back story, a fictional sexual rival waiting in the wings, to complete her mysterious new persona. The goal is to make your husband believe that you are a promiscuous housewife on the prowl...for him.
Somehow I had a hard time imagining which of tips my demure, painfully modest wife would be willing to do. It certainly couldn't be risqué clothes since most of her wardrobe looked like they came from a black and white 1950s TV show. And she still had the same hairstyle, shoulder length honey blonde hair, since high school. Hell, Patti was a virgin when we met and I was 1,000% certain that she had never strayed so the slutty vamp was out too. I couldn't wait for Friday to find out what she was going to do.
Thus began our first-last Friday of the month date night tradition. But our story actually began earlier that day, at lunch, when Patti couldn't find an open table at the restaurant. It seems a gallant man offered to share his with my wife. They immediately hit it off and spent the next two hours getting to know each other...or so the story goes.
When Patti drove me to work that morning she wore typical business attire, a blue wool skirt that hit well below her knees, a matching blue wool blazer, a plain black blouse, and black pantyhose. Perhaps she has some exotic lingerie on under, I thought of the article and hoped.
Before I got out she reminded me that we had a 6:00 reservation at a restaurant in an upscale hotel about a mile from my office then joked that the walk would help me work up my appetite.
We arrived at the restaurant at almost the same time. Other than having her hair up in a French braid nothing had changed. A man in a tuxedo led is to a private booth in the corner facing the bar.
Like every evening, we both highlighted our days and ran out of things to say after fifteen I could tell Patti wanted to tell me something but didn't want to ruin the evening by forcing it. So we sat silently in our candle lit booth sipping drinks while waiting for our appetizers. After she finished her second drink, on an empty stomach, Patti worked up the nerve to begin spinning a tale worthy of a cheap paperback romance novel, the kind that has a drawing of a man with his shirt ripped open ravaging a maiden on the cover
"I met an interesting person today," Patti said.
"You mean a man, an interesting man." I challenged her choice of the word person.
"Yes, he is a man...an interesting man" She sneered.
I remembered the magazine suggested making up a fantasy rival, like an active young single woman might actually have, to increase the sexual tension and played along.
"Tell me all about him."
"Only if you promise not to get all jealous on me."
"I promise...now let's hear all the details...and don't leave out any of the naughty parts." I joked. Patti blushed.
She began, "His name is Robert..." Over drinks and appetizers and through the salad course Patti dominated the conversation with more details about her new friend. I have never heard her so excited or animated when she met someone. Her only concern was that she was fourteen years older than him.
My wife Patti is a hopeless romantic and I was certain she was making up Robert as part of date night in an attempt to make me jealous and I intended to play along to the fullest.
The waiter brought us each two drinks and said we had reached happy hour. Patti sucked one down, her fourth of the evening then asked, "Do you think a thirty six year old woman is too old to be friends with a 22 year old man?"
