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July 28, 2009

I’ve taken part in adultery before. It was a long time ago, right before I drove cross country from Maine to Los Angeles.

The guys at the Pepsi plant where I worked every summer during college loved me. I was this goofy kid who lightened up their workplace for a few months every year. They especially loved the pictures I used to draw. I have an ability to doodle things and I would draw caricatures of all the top tier plant workers like the bosses, the loud mouths, and creepy-looking ones. I’m sure they’re still hanging throughout the plant all these years later. Or at least I hope they are.

On my last day at the plant, a bunch of the guys wanted to take me out for dinner and drinks to send me off properly. We met at the Ground Round, formerly located on Center Street in Auburn, Maine.

There was a large crowd that night because a bunch of the guys brought their wives to meet me like I was Neo in the Matrix Reloaded. One of the lab guys, a tall friendly lug named Ron, brought his lovely wife named Trisha, and Trisha brought her lovely cousin – a sexy older woman or (SOW for short) in her mid thirties named Adulteress.

Now I don’t know if it was because I was zinging one-liners at the table, or because I was having an amazing-post work hair day, or because she was just excited about the notion of packing up and moving to California, but for some reason Adulteress was enamored with me. She even took me aside by the popcorn machine to explain that when she heard the stories of me and saw the pictures I drew, she thought I was some kind of geek – but after meeting me in person, she realized I was a geek with charisma.

After we finished things at the Ground Round, a few of the guys wanted to keep the party going by moving things over to the bar inside the Ramada Inn, across the river in Lewiston, Maine. Adulteress was going to the Ramada Inn bar and she wanted to drive with me. On the way to the Ramada Inn, Adulteress explained to me that she was married with two kids. She then went on to explain in further detail how she had her vagina stitched up a little to make it tighter after her second child. She then told me to pull over so we could make out.

At the Ramada Inn, I was able to talk Adulteress into continuing our make-out session inside the handicapped stall of the men’s bathroom – where I got her shirt and bra completely off – but only after she forced me to slow dance with her to a horrible Eric Clapton cover band called Tears in Heaven. And it was especially embarrassing since I had to slow dance in front of all my Pepsi co-workers.

Anyway, after a fat guy started taking a dump in the stall next to us, Adulteress put her shirt back on and told me to get a hotel room. I had saved a little over $6,000 that summer and I wanted to make sure I had plenty of weed money when I moved to Hollywood, so I told her no. Adulteress then told me we could go back to her house since her husband was on a hunting trip deep in the sticks of Maine.

I don’t normally pass on the opportunity to have sex – I mean someone in my position, who doesn’t know when the next meal is coming, can’t afford to pass on sex – especially when it’s with a sexy older woman (SOW for short) – and especially when it doesn’t effect my ability to purchase marijuana. But this situation was different. I had never been a part of an affair before – well, except for when I made out with Adulteress in my car and then again later in the handicapped stall of the men’s bathroom at the Ramada Inn. But that stuff was different. That was just making out and touching boobies. Going back to her place was serious business. Chances are there’d be a surgically enhanced vagina involved.

I thought about it long and hard and in the end I decided to pass. It was just wrong and I knew it. Besides, my brother’s place was right up the street and I was pretty hammered. I thanked all the guys from the Pepsi plant, said goodbye to Adulteress, and went on my way. But before I left, Ron and Trisha invited me to their house for dinner if I had a free night before I moved.

The next morning I was so fucking pissed at myself. All I wanted to do was have sex with Adulteress and I blew it. And the most baffling thing was how I made such a responsible decision when I was drunk. It makes no sense whatsoever. Anyway, I did the only thing I could do – I called Ron and invited myself  over to his house for dinner. And I told him to invite Adulteress, too.

A few days later, I went over to Ron and Trisha’s house for the sole purpose of boning their married cousin. As Ron was giving me a tour of their house, all I could think about were all the places I was going to have sex with Adulteress.

A few minutes later Adulteress finally showed up – with her two little kids in tow. And once I saw those kids, I immediately felt like a sleaze ball – although I finally understood why she had to have her vagina tightened when I saw the size of her kids’ heads. They were like basketballs. Adulteress wasn’t having any of moral problems I was having. She even wanted to fool around with me in the laundry room while her kids watched Pokemon.

A few moments later I saw a giant set of headlights flash in the kitchen window.  I looked out the window and saw Adulteress’s husband hop out of a tractor trailer rig. He was a giant, burly man with thick curly hair and a giant beard. And I think he fancied himself some kind of deer hunter because he wore army pants and a t-shirt with an image of a deer in crosshairs.

As we sat there eating tuna casserole, I felt really uncomfortable the whole time because Adulteress kept smiling at me with her googly-eyes. She even tried making out with me at the table when her husband was getting seconds.

And I felt horrible because everyone at the table except for the dear hunter knew that I had gotten his wife topless inside a bathroom stall, and that she later invited me back to her house to have sex in the same bed he sleeps in. But the worse thing is he really started to like me. Especially after I drew a caricature of him and Adulteress at the beach – and he never even questioned how I knew his wife had a brown mole on her left breast. In fact, he was so impressed with her likeness, he invited me to dinner at their house the next night.

Since the ice was broken, I could finally loosen up and have a good time. And everything was going great until I told him Jeff Foxworthy sucks. The deer hunter immediately pulled out a crossbow and started firing arrows at me. He got me twice in the leg but I was still able to make it to my truck and drive away.

After I pulled the arrows out of my leg, I figured karma was teaching me a lesson, and I never did anything like that again – not so much because of any decisions I made, but more so because I never got any more opportunities like that.