You May Ask Yourself, Well, How Did I Get Here?

So there’s this married guy on this secluded beach. And there’s this attractive, young woman–not his wife–sitting behind him on a blanket rubbing coconut scented suntan oil into his back. He’s talking to her about how much he loves his wife and how great their two young children are. She’s talking to him about how much she loves living in the islands and what fun it is to meet traveling businessmen.

Being a gentleman, the married guy walks the attractive young woman back to her apartment. As the sun sets over the rhythmically swaying palm trees, the married guy turns to face the woman with whom he has been spending every minute that he hasn’t been in meetings for the past three days of his trip. He has a decision to make: He has to decide whether or not to accept her invitation to come inside her apartment for a drink. Then he will have to decide whether or not to kiss the attractive young woman.

What should he do? Should he accept her invitation to come inside her apartment for a drink? Should the married guy kiss the attractive young woman?

As a happily married father of four, I’m rooting for no. I’m hoping for the following scenario: the married guy turns around, maybe runs into the ocean to cool off, then returns alone to his hotel room. I’m into commitment. Infidelity seldom leads anywhere good. Indiscretions–such a gentle word–harm more marriages than they help.

But first let’s back up. Our married guy didn’t appear “ad ovo” on the door of the attractive young woman’s apartment like Minerva born fully grown out of the brain of Zeus. Nor did Scotty beam down the attractive young woman from the USS Enterprise. They both came from somewhere. Ignoring the singularity of the Big Bang where-to my knowledge there were no beaches and less coconut scented suntan oil-every moment has a moment before it.

This affair started with a glance and a nod followed by a casual conversation subsequent to an invitation to lunch then a suggestion of a walk on the beach. From the blanket and the sunset, it wasn’t a long way geographically or metaphorically to the doorway of the apartment.

So this issue is not what the married guy should do now, but–if you’ll forgive the twisted grammar–what he should not have done before.

Contrast the married guy on the beach with my recently married friend, Mary who, on the first day of graduate school responds to a conversation from a classmate as they wait for the professor to arrive. It turns out that she and the classmate have a lot in common, shared program, shared research interests, a thousand things to talk about. Mary and her fellow graduate student feel a connection, a feeling similar to what Mary feels for her husband. So what does Mary do for the next class?

She sits across the room and doesn’t respond to her pleasant classmate’s subsequent attempts to engage her in conversation.

I’m not arguing that Mary is morally superior to the married guy.

I am arguing that she’s smarter.

Because she doesn’t have to make a difficult decision about whether or not to commit marital infidelity.

Because it is so much easier to stay out of trouble than to get out of trouble.

Envision a snarky teenager-for many of my gracious readers, little imagination will be required-who interrupts the natural flow of discourse in her home to demand breakfast in a loud, grouchy voice. What is to be done? How should the child be addressed? Should she be denied breakfast? Should she be taken aside and reprimanded? Should her mother scream back that at 15 years of age, any competent person should be capable of preparing her own breakfast and besides, they are going to be late for school? Again.

Or is this horse out of the proverbial barn? Has something gone desperately wrong along the way?

Like smoking cigarettes, the best way to stop is not to start. This child should never have been allowed to become demanding and rude.

Or the man who, having jumped off the roof of a 30 story building, whizzes past the 20th floor exulting, “So far, so good!” (In this story, the sidewalk is what is sometimes termed “the natural consequence.”)

The time to dig a well is before you get thirsty. The time to decide what kind of home you want to live in is long before the kids are in their teens. The time to decide whether or not the married guy should kiss that attractive girl is long before they are alone on her doorstep.