Skip to main content

A Little 'Tang at the 'Stang

“You’re a phenomenal woman. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” These kind words from BMNB this morning as I was dragging my tail and my spirit to work meant the world to me. He could see that my heart was heavy and my eyes were sad. “Keep your head up,” he advised.

This morning we discussed our future. Or rather, he told me in no uncertain terms what he was willing to do to secure our future, financially and otherwise. To make joy a regular part of our lives, not an occasional treat. To put our little family first. In other words, he assured me that in no uncertain terms he had my back.

For all of that, I would have willingly allowed him the pleasure of a little “‘tang at the ‘stang.”

You see, BMNB just returned from three days on the road driving most of our worldly possessions from a storage space in Aurora, Colorado to Elk Grove. He was tired beyond measure when he called me from Winnemucca, Nevada.

“You know,” I started slyly, “you’re in Nevada, where prostitution is legal in some counties. I wouldn’t be mad at you if you took in a little “ ‘tang at the ‘stang,” I laughed.

He laughed right back. “You mean the Mustang Ranch? Are they even still in business?” I could visualize his arched right eyebrow, which he arches when he’s curious or doubtful about something.

“I don’t know, but if they are, hey, it’s legal there and the IRS is probably running it to pay for back taxes. Won’t mess with your security clearance.”

He chuckled. “Nah, that’s okay. I’m good.”

You see, I’ve changed my position about marital infidelity. Back when I started college, I told my freshman roommate Sheila that if a husband of mine cheated on me, we’d be through. Cheating meant there was no trust; if there was no trust, there was no marriage.

“You mean you’d throw away a marriage behind some ass?” Sheila was wise beyond her years, even at 18.

Now, at the age of 45, I get it. Especially where BMNB is concerned.

You see, BMNB doesn’t have any real vices. He doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs, doesn’t gamble, and doesn’t chase women (or at least I have no reason to believe he does.) He’s cheap to a fault and won’t do anything that might remotely endanger his security clearance. He doesn’t even have a golf jones – he only goes out to the links to socialize with his friends who are golfing. He has no anger management issues, he’s never raised his hand to a woman, he’s never been arrested or done time, and he has no deep-seated therapy-worthy issues. For the most part, he’s as close to perfect a mate as I will ever come.

So if BMNB got a wild hair and decided to chase some tail, I ain’t mad at him, as long as he doesn’t violate the ground rules: 1) No souvenirs (e.g., crab lice, STD’s or children); 2) No emotional attachment; 3) No lying; 4) No cheating recidivism; and 5) No messing with my financial assets if you violate Rule Number 2 and decide you want a divorce. There’s love and then there’s money. Don’t mess with my money.

Long story short, I’m 45 years of age. I don’t want to start over. I don’t want to date again. I don’t want to divide up my assets, and I sure as hell don’t want to sell the Google stock in my 401k, especially behind some tail. We’ve worked too hard to build this life together to let it run adrift behind a stupid indiscretion from a man who’s been far too perfect for far too long. No person, male or female, is this good, and even BMNB should be allowed to fail just once.

So, BMNB, the offer still stands. But knowing you, you’re too good to take it.

That’s why I love you.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Retired Man Walking: Too Young to Retire, Too Old to Take Shit

A while back I ran into a friend and fellow professional employed by the State of California, and he offered me his perspective on State employment as a tail-end Baby Boomer like myself -- someone who can't retire because he lacks the requisite age or years of service, but, unlike myself, is tired of taking shit from superiors who don't know what to do with you.

Although my friend gave his permission for me to use his name in this blog entry, I decline to do so because what he does is so specialized that it would not be hard for anyone to identify him as one of the few African American men, if not the only African-American man, in California state civil service who does what he does. For purposes of this blog entry, I will refer to him as he now refers to himself:  Retired Man Walking.

Retired Man Walking, or RMW, has an interesting philosophy he applies to working for the State as a professional who isn't old enough to retire but has been around long enough to know the s…

My Prayer and Mantra for 2017 -- Do Not Waste Time on People and Things That Don't Matter

In this era of fake news, fake political candidates, and fake people all around, my prayer and mantra for 2017 is simple:  Do not waste time on people and things that don't matter.

In 2016, I spent too much time and money on things and people who didn't matter.  I allowed myself to become distracted by stuff that, for me and Black Man Not Blogging, didn't really matter for our happiness.  These distractions not only didn't improve the quality of our life together; they decreased it with additional and unnecessary stress.

The good news is that, for the most part, we're okay.  Yeah, Trump and his ilk really suck, but instead of a lot of hand wringing and commiserating, I'm going to do the one thing my late mother She Who  Is Exalted (SWIE) did better than anyone I know:  Play the hand you've been dealt.  My mother was a black female without a college education and with six kids, so playing the hand she was dealt was her survival skill.  Now it will be mine.

S…

Hillary Clinton Can Stop Trump -- If She Releases Her Electors

Hillary Clinton isn't going to be President of the United States.  At least not yet.  And not in 2017.

But she can possibly stop Donald Trump from being President by releasing her pledged electors  in the Electoral College to vote for a compromise Republican candidate.

This is part of the strategy of the Hamilton Electors, members of the Electoral College who see that Donald Trump is not qualified to be President.  They argue that the Electoral College's role is not to rubber-stamp the popular vote -- which, in this case, would belong to Clinton -- but to serve as a check on the popular vote to make sure that no one who is unfit assumes the office of President.

According to the Hamilton Electors, named for Founding Father Alexander Hamilton (Yes, he of the very popular musical for which I can't get tickets) Hamilton stated that the Electoral College's test for fitness to be the President was as follows (and I'm quoting):

Election of a Qualified Person: As Hamilton s…