“You know” she replied, adding an eye-roll. “Connie… Connie and Stan.”“Oh Yea” I said. “I remember.”“anyway” my wife continued, ...��They meet at Connie’s house every Tuesday night. You don’t mind, do you? Should only be a couple of hours.”“Sure” I said, very nonchalantly. I then began to wonder what was really going on and how I would find out.I gave it a lot of thought and figured that if my wife, of 15 years, wanted to test her lesbian urges, then I should just let her, right? The big night. It was 7:00 when I was forced to move because my bladderdemanded relief. I stared at the bruise on my face in the bathroommirror. When I went to work tomorrow I would need a story to tellabout the bruise. That should be no problem. Wasn't I Sam Haber? I was an expert onstories. I only got in trouble when I told the truth. I would say itwas a kitchen accident that happened when I was putting away a heavybowl on shelf. I would say I had a great weekend until I clunkedmyself on the face. I would. More

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