So my wife gets dressed to the nines each Friday night, goes out but doesn't tell me where she goes

Should I be worried?
I was just now talking to a fellow English teacher. Several months ago I sat in one of his conversation classes. He started off the class asking each person what piqued their interest and so he asked me as well.

That’s what I said, and that where she would go each week had piqued my curiosity. I said it with a very straight face and acted like I was completely clueless about something which should be damn obvious to anyone.

So my friend hummed and hawed around a bit then asked if he could make a very personal question. I said sure, so he started off bring up the story, then he got really pissed when I burst out laughing.

I had thought that there was no way he would have taken my story at face value, but he had. So for months now, he couldn’t figure out what to say to me each time we met.

When I was in my 20s, riding the bus from the dorm to my retail drone job and back, I chanced to meet a young white woman at a bus stop White woen were rare in that neighborhood and rare on the bus. She latched onto me because I never harassed her and after a few rides started asking me questions I found nosy but in retrospect were just cluelessly friendly. So I made up a bullshit story that I was in town helping take care of my poor aunt, supposedly dying of leukemia, and her several young kids while her husband worked to support the family. This tale had the desired effect of making her think I was a kind and generous fellow rather than a creep.

The semester ended and I moved for the summer, and so had no reasonto catch that bus for several months. In the fall I was back in the dorm and riding that bus again and ran into the blonde again. She remembered me and immediately asked how I was, how my aunt and nephews were, and so forth, so I made up another bullshit story – that y aunt had died and my uncle had moved away with the boys. It made no sense but she believed it anyway,or affected to, and cried a little at the faux tragedy

So congrats. You’re entering 20s!Skald levels of jacholery!

I have no suggestion onhow to best extricate yourself from this situation, but you should probably try.

<Solemnly> “Oh yeah, I found out” <quieter> “Hail Hydra”

You’re either a funny guy, or a total fucker to your friend.

My friend Pat is a huge Tolkien fan. He was a full-fledged jock in high school, cocky as hell, but completely went against type in his love for Tolkien. He had DUNADAN made into his license plate.

He eventually got an assistant coach position for a HS football team out in the sticks. One of his fellow coaches, also from the sticks, asked him what his license plate meant. Pat said in his John Wayne voice, “I could tell ya, but I’d have to kill ya.” One of the oldest put-ons in existence, but apparently this guy hadn’t ever heard it before. He told the other coaches to stay away from Pat because he’s a secret government hit man or something.

Yes, one or the other.

He has a very dry sense of humor as well and I thought that I had exaggerated the story soooo much that it would be obvious to him, but apparently not.

I guess the problem was that I was pretty depressed at the moment so he must have thought that this was a cause, and he certainly couldn’t bring it up again.

For the record, I did apologize and promised not to do that again to him.

We still are friends.

Am I high or something?

According to my scans, yes, you are totally smashed.

“A fellow English teacher” - Problem number one.

And oh, TokyoBayer, I’m banging your wife.

My wife’s aunt was a sweet old lady who lived in a rundown house on a fixed income.

Whenever she had some kind of driveway or home repair issue I would snag my teenage son and head to her place and fix it. The jobs would usually cost me $50 to $200 in materials and my son and I would perform the labor.

Each time she would try to pay me with money that she surely needed more than I. I would usually lie to her and tell her that a friend donated the material or that I had extra material etc. I told her that my son couldn’t take the money because he put it as a credit towards public service for school (another lie).

Once she seemed determined to pay me until I told her, “If you give me $20 your niece (my wife) will just take it away from me and buy whiskey!”

That stopped her. She believed it. I never did confess the lie to her. She never did offer money again. She believed it to her dieing day.

Amazing enough the wife didn’t get mad.

That explains why I’m not following what the OP is saying.

My husband went to Bible college. Like, his degree was in “Bible” with a minor in “missions.” He is emphatically out of that scene now, but it can make for good conversation.

We recently moved to the Seattle area–though we are out in the boondocks–and had our new Seattle relative best-buddy family over one evening. We’d all had a lot to drink and were playing Cards Against Humanity after the kids had gone to bed, and I was telling the story about the time my husband was brought to the Dean for practicing witchcraft (actually, he’d been playing D&D). Our guests said “so your degree is Bible?”

“No, my degree is a B.A. Just like everyone there. Well, the men, anyway.”
(they look at each other) “… the women didn’t get B.A.s?”
“No, they couldn’t take a degree. They were just there for their M.R.S.s.”
“Wait a minute. You mean they took the classes and stuff, but couldn’t get degrees?”
“Well, the M.R.S.s. I mean, what else would they need?”

Yeah. He totally had our friends going on that one.

Of course the women got B.A.s there, too. It does dance on the edge of believability, though.

Today I learned:

M.R.S. - A marriage as a result of attending a 4-year university with the soul purpose of getting married and consequently not completing college.

(I’m REALLY out of that scene. . .)


I can be pretty gullible too. Your story had me going.

I lived in Baltimore for a number of years and the neighborhood got taken over by drug dealers.
I already had a reputation for being a crazy white bitch and most of them stayed out of my way, but every now and then a new one would come around and didn’t know who to avoid - I had a lot of crazy neighbors, people you really did NOT want to mess with.

One night I was coming home around 2am and some new guy jumped out in front of me, trying to block the road and make me stop. I did my usual, put in the clutch and hit the gas, he ran for the curb. I pulled into my driveway and parked and he was standing there watching me. Normally I’d just go on in the house,but I was in a mood and so my mouth took over.

I said look, I’ve told you mfer’s I don’t want what you are selling so stay the fuck out of my way and leave me alone.
He said some shit back, I said some shit, then he says

Yeah, but all you white bitches want our big black dicks.

I said, you’re right, I do want your big black dick.

He got the biggest smile on his face and he took a step closer to me and I said,
I can add it to the jar of formaldehyde with all the other dicks I’ve collected.

Who knew anybody could run that fast?

So later that day, the woman across the street comes over and says she is so surprised I haven’t been shot yet.
I said what you mean? She says she heard what I had said last night and it made her laugh so hard she fell out of her chair. Then she says she didn’t know anybody could run that fast. So we laughed a little about it and talked about some other things.

Then she lowers her voice and very quietly and seriously said, You really don’t have a jar full of dicks in your house, do you?

I’m thinking, you are seriously asking me that question?

So, I said no, I don’t have a jar full of dicks

She looks relieved

and then I said, Why would I keep them in a jar when I have five hungry dogs to feed?

Some people are just too easy.

I like you Sahirnee. That was some sick and twisted shit.

I. Long, mundane, pointless introduction.

II. I told a yarn which made it look like my wife was cheating on me, and I was completely clueless.

III. Friend got whooshed.

IV. Little_Pig thought I was being an ass.

V. He’s probably right.

VI. Other people shared times when they or someone close to them told a whopper which was believed by others.

VII. Which is the reason I wrote the OP.

VIII. I can also do this in PowerPoint.

“Some people just don’t know how to tell a joke.”


Funny shit, Sahirrnee. Pretty good.

He may have thought, as I did, that there was a totally innocent explanation for her behavior, like maybe she works as an actress on a tour bus or something, that your story was strictly true but misleading. If it’s just made up from scratch, he and I were reading too much into it :).

I really don’t know where it comes from, but it’s fun sometimes.
I just can’t believe anybody would take it seriously.

However, in that neighborhood, being thought a little sick and twisted was a good thing.