Here’s a scenario: A married man is sitting at a hotel bar. A smokin’ hot babe takes the stool next to him. After two drinks, she strikes up a conversation with him. It moves from chit chat to more personal things. The guy gets an offer to join the woman in her room. He tinks about it.

Let’s step aside for a minute. This could be:

a) A legitimate offer

b) A police sting

c) A twisted reality show

d) A trap set by a paranoid wife

e) All of the above

If the guy has any sense he’ll pick e. Why? Any other choice will put him in the position to practice a skill set that men realy suck at; lying. We all know a politician will say anything to get elected. Lincoln lied. Used car salesmen? Televangelists? Your boss? It’s a given. Even when their job is to lie to people men can’t do it. Okay, there’s probably a boatload of wives who’ll pipe up and say,”My husband lied to me. I didn’t know he had a mistress.” Bullshit. You knew. You ignored the signs. You didn’t believe what your gut was telling you. Men aren’t that smart. They believe the press that they dominate the world. If it were men’s descision to reproduce we’d have checked out a million years ago. They couldn’t come up with a lie good enough to convince a woman to get imptegnated, carry the result for nine months while growing and having hormonal pot pourri and to cap it off go through an indefinite period of pain and discomfort beyond what he could endure. It’s not that men a honest and incapable of lying. It’s that lying is a case of a battleship mouth overloading a rowboat ass. The wise man will be honest. Admit his shortcomings and inability to deliver on promises made in the heat of passion, election fever or need for approval. Lying could be replaced with just keeping his mouth shut when what’s coming out isn’t exactly the truth. Women don’t have a bullshit detecting ability. They know who they’re dealing with. They just don’t listen to that voice we all have when something’s not right nagging. Men shut it off when they buy cars, motorcycles, guns, food or meet strange women. When partners choose to ignore the warnings they delude themselves into believing that everything is perfect or they could get away with this, just once.

Back to our buddy at the bar. His best shot is to pullin his horns, smile at the lady and tell her that he can’t lie to his (wife, girlfriend) and even though he’s flattered, he’ll take a pass. He’ll finish his drink, get up and go home. Sure there might be a shitstorm waiting for him, staying out drinking and all, he’s man enough to deal with it. And know it’s the right thing in the long run.

Back to the story.

Ronald Fox was sentenced to confinement at Logwood Hospital. Longwood is an asylum for the criminally insane. They don’t call it that because people would picket it trying to move somewhere else or trying to get more “humane” treatment for the inmates. Ronald was transported there in a police cruiser. He looked out the window looking at things he might never see again. When they arrived, the hospital didn’t live up to Ronald’s expectations. He envisioned a Gothic manor surrounded by a fence with barred windows. It was instead a building constructed in the early fifties for the express purpose of housing people that society couldn’t deal with. The cops who escorted Ronald Fox to the hospital felt sorry for him because they believed he’d be dead within a year. Ronald Fox  was processed into the facility. He was interviewed by nurses, psychiatrists and psychologists. They determined he was mentally disturbed, unable to communicate or function in the world. He was assigned a ward that had secure housing. He was locked into a room where he stayed, his day interupted by meals and medication. After ninety days he was released into the population. Ronald Fox spent time in the television lounge, a room that seated twelve on couches that were obtained from a consignment store in nineteen fifty nine. He watched whatever was on. He saw some of his favorite women. He restrained himself from telling them he loved them. He just watched.

See ya on Wednesday.