having an affair

It's official; I'm having an affair while The Hater is out of town.

Last night I went out on a wonderful date with The Count, husband to Unequivocal Prowess, who is also out of town. We drank the coldest beer in town between the most racy, witty conversation upon which you could have ever evesdropped.

After dinner we came back to my place and discussed more serious matters, consecutive dates, juggling our busy schedules. This took place on the famous blue couch while sipping bubbly diet sprite and listening to the cooing sounds of Avenue Q. I feigned naivety as he downloaded and burned cds to share. He's such a good share-er.

But then the conversation turned to a more serious matter... this was, albeit sanctioned, an affair. We decided our next date should be more exciting, and decided that we would go to Shakespeare in the Park to see The Two Gentlemen of Verona Friday evening. I dusted off my complete works of Willy, and then we talked about our favorite tragedies of the infamous bard, quizzing each other on the required memorization tasks that were put before us in grade school. Neither of us did very well remembering those speeches or remembering in which part of the play they happened.

It was very exciting. So exciting, in fact, that he left my place in a fever. And instead of staying up to read the play we're going to see, the cat and I tapped out for the night.

It was an affair to remember through rose colored glasses. Otherwise, what fun would the story be?