July 17, 2009

Tonight, she was an hour late coming home from work, so I called her to see if she was okay. She doesn’t answer the phone, but calls me back a few minutes later. She gives me this snotty tone of voice and asks me what I am doing. Like it is rude and presumptuous of me to be calling her to see when she’ll be home, especially considering that I am waiting dinner on her with two hungry kids. I ask her where she is and she tells me some BS story about how there were a bunch of birthdays at work and she went to Vito’s for ‘just a half a minute.’ Then she says that she is on her way home. Okay. I figure I’ll just wait until she gets home. Or talk to her tomorrow, since there is no point in saying anything to her when she is drunk.

Of course, she must have picked up a bottle on the way back because she is to hammered to eat. She starts telling me that when she finished her late shift, one of her (male) co-workers came out at the same time and she said to him, “What are you doing, honey?” And he asked her out for a drink with him. So of course, booze, so she had to go. And not call me or let me know she was going to be late. (Notice there is no mention of birthdays in this version of her story.) I told her I didn’t want to talk to her about it.

Later, she tries again. She is telling me that two of her male co-workers like me. (One of them being the one she went for a drink with.) I just said that’s nice, I think they are okay too. (I thought the shit heel that seduced her after Thanksgiving dinner was a friend of mine to, so either I am just a horrible judge of character or guys will fuck your wife whether they like you or not.) I then told her I was putting the kids to bed and left the room. She was passed out when I got back downstairs.