My colleagues keep telling me to get a lover. Not that they feel sorry for me because of my non existing sex life, they are simply tired of hearing about my imaginary sex with George Clooney. I just can’t help it, when I see sexy underwear in Madame Figaro, I right away show it to everybody, and tell how I am going to wear it tonight when George comes by (this sexy underwear is just as imaginary as George unless somebody thinks my real life white Sloggies are sexy). Then I go on and tell quite detailed about the evening with George until everybody is screaming “That’s enough, we don’t want to hear anymore!”. Only the hetero guy says “Go on, tell more, please !”.But there are at least three major reasons that I don’t get a lover:
1. Chlamydia, syphilis, gonorrhea or any other sexual transmitted disease. I don't want to get to know these ones just as I don't want to get acquainted with earthquake, volcanic eruption, tsunami or a hurricane.
2. What if nobody wants to be my lover? That my husband doesn’t want to have sex with me is embarrassing enough, what if I go around and ask thousands of guys and every single one thanks no. That would be very fatal for my self esteem.
3. Do I want to get more miserable I already am? My husband surely makes me miserable as I am a woman and he is a man, and my lover being a man would also do that. Double misery? No thanks.
So I settle with George. Having the medical history in ER there is nothing to fear regarding sexual diseases, he is always willing, and being around only in bed, he never makes me miserable.
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