Tom shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, you look great," he argues back.

"You aren't paying attention, Tom. Pay attention to me. Read my lips. I FEEL silly."

"You look great, Ella. Why do you feel silly?"

"To start with, this miniskirt you made me wear. It shows half of my thigh. And that's when I can keep it down."

"Honey, you have great legs."

"They're ordinary legs, Tom. I'm 29. But I'm dressed like I'm 16."

"Trust me, as an expert on this, the miniskirt looks great."

"You have no fashion sense at all Tom. And my hair! I hate this hair."

"Thanks for growing it out for me."

"Thanks for the new kitchen. It's strange to feel my hair on my shoulders and my back. And swirling around my face. AND IT IS TOO MUCH TROUBLE TO TAKE CARE OF."

"I believe you mentioned that 97 times now. Did I ever mention the cost of the kitchen?"

"About 97 times." She smiles ruefully. "That's why I don't complain as much as I want to."

"There is a merciful God."

"Tom, my dear husband, I'm a bank manager. I'm trying to make progress in a male-dominated industry, and long, dyed-blond hair doesn't send the right message of sensibility and responsibility. Remind me why I had to dye it blond?"

"I like you looking sexy."

She sighs resignedly. "What do I get for wearing this pop-up bra tonight with my buttons undone down to my cleavage?"

"Babe, I am out of money."

"WE are out of money. We really needed that new kitchen. And you want a happy wife, trust me as an expert on this."

"Amen to that. Showing cleavage is sexy."

She shakes her head in amazement. "Wrong again, it makes me look like a high school sophomore breaking the dress code. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Well, thanks for wearing it tonight. A happy husband is good too."

She gives here hand a maybe-yes-maybe-no waffling motion. "And why are we in this bar?"

"I am showing you off."

"You know what Tom?" She says irritable. "That is really -- " her voice gets softer and huskier "-- sexy."

He smiles. Victory!

She says with more concern in her voice, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"It's just that my stomach is a little upset. I'm okay."

She reaches out and gently strokes my face. "You don't look well. Did you want to go? We can come back another night. I promise."

"No, I'll be okay. But maybe I should visit the bathroom. I'll be right back."

When he gets to the bathroom he feels even worse. He puts his head over the toilet, just in case.

And waits to feel better, but it 's not a long wait until he feels worse. And then, he knows he's going to throw up.

and indeed he does, tossing an expensive dinner into the toilet bowl.
and then lunch, though it's not recognizable.
and emptying his stomach. It's really a practical response from the stomach, to rid itself of everything when something goes wrong.
It's just really hard on Tom.
and it took him a while to recover.
and then feel a little stronger.
And then he realized how rude it was to desert her. Not that he had a choice.
and he hoped she wasn't angry.
Or, if she was angry, he hoped that she walked out and he wouldn't have to face her right away.

He walks back into the bar. No problem to find his wife's blond hair. But there was a guy sitting in his seat. Huh, she didn't save his seat?

And there's another guy standing next to her? And she's talking to them? What the fuck?

She laughs. He's knows that laugh, it got him to marry her, she has a really good laugh. What the fuck is going on?

He walks over and says , "Hey, you're in my seat."

The guy turns to him. "I was here first, find your own seat." And he turns back to Tom's wife.

"Ella?" He appeals needily to his wife.

She says with a very engaging smile, "Pull up a chair, handsome."

She called him handsome? Had she really drank that much?

The standing guy says, "Another round over here."

Tom says to the guy, "I'm her husband."

He looks at Tom, studies him briefly, then looks back at Ella. "This dump is your husband?"

"Afraid so, boys."

"Hmmph."

The standing guy says, "You owe me a kiss." Tom is about to explain that she does not when he leans over and kisses Tom's wife on the lips, a short friendly kiss, but disconcerting to Tom, partly because he never had to watch his wife kissing another man and partly because she didn't flinch away.

The other guy stands up. Ella says, "Thanks for the drink," and she pouts her lips towards him. He leans over and kisses her.

And keeps kisses her. It's a long, very inappropriate kiss. Tom puts his hand on the man's shoulder, he jerks away, and leaves.

"What the fuck was that?"

I don't know, Tom. It was really mysterious. I was just sitting here WEARING A MINISKIRT UP TO MY MID THIGH that I have to keep pulling down, sipping my drink as my VERY ANOYING long blond hard swirled around my face, trying to hide the CLEAVAGE you made me show, and . . . a guy came over, Terrence, and offered to buy ME a drink.

"Could have knocked me over with a feather, except that would have shown the entire room my panties because of the miniskirt YOU WANTED ME TO WEAR. And Terrence and I aren't chatting for more than a few minutes when another guy comes over, Raymond, and the three of us talk. And, you know, they laughed a little harder at something I said than it really deserved. Which meant they wanted me.

She looks straight at him. "Tom, I felt really sexy."

"Of course you are. You're always sexy to me."

"No I'm not, Tom. you wanted me to change my hair, what I wear, and my apparent breast size. That does not scream 'You always look sexy to me.'"

"Well, you look really sexy now."

"Do you think so?" she asked honestly.

"Oh hell yes."

She wriggles excitedly. "Are you ready to go home now? We can, um, discuss this there."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. I thought I was going to have to fight that guy."

"That's sexy too." She opens her legs enough to flash him her panties. "The house needs painting."

"I -- we don't have the money. And I don't have the time to do it myself."

She shouts across the room, "Hey Terrence, I might be back." And turns back to Tom.

He can see down her blouse. "I'll paint the house."

"I thought so. And I need money for new clothes. Sexier clothes."

He smiles. "I can find the money for that."

She stands up and puts her arm inside his. "Take me home, sugar daddy."

And out they walk.