A cheating wife drives a man to extremes

We began seeing each other every chance we could get. The only difference was that this time there was no group to distract us or buffer our interaction, and thus the relationship seemed to take off faster and burn hotter than I think either of us expected.

One of the realities of poverty-level living is how difficult it is to find a time and place to be alone together. My apartment was a disaster as a rendezvous: one or more of my roomies was always appearing out of nowhere, usually at a most inopportune time. Even when I planned ahead and “reserved” one of the two bedrooms for a few hours, someone was likely to walk in suddenly, oblivious to our desire for privacy.

Glenda’s place was a little better because there were only four roommates in total and all were girls who understood and observed the rules of social etiquette much more scrupulously. Nevertheless, their place was tiny and the interior walls were thin, so true privacy was nonexistent, especially when we were in the throes of passion. It was unnerving enough to hear giggles coming through the door; hearing a running commentary on our coupling was really too much.

Despite all the obstructions our relationship continued to flourish and we began to talk about finding a place for just the two of us. But the realities of New York City real estate and entry-level salaries made that just another rose-colored pipe dream — until fate stepped in once again.

Out of nowhere there was a shake-up at the publishing company and a junior editor position became available. I guess I had made a good impression because the job was offered to me. It only paid about what I could earn in a good month as a waiter, but it came with employee benefits so I didn’t hesitate to turn in my waiter’s uniform and become a real book editor.

No sooner had we celebrated my good fortune than Glenda had a similar windfall. She had been temping at Denison and Lowser, one of the many big law firms in town, and when a paralegal job came open, they hired Glenda full time. She too was low man on the totem pole, but law firms pay better than publishing houses and her starting salary was higher than mine.

More importantly, when we added our take-home pay together we realized that we just might have enough to make our dream a reality. After a lengthy search we found a small apartment on the sixth floor of an old building out in Forest Hills. The only reason we could afford it was because the building was almost a mile from the nearest subway stop. We took it on the spot.

After that we went shopping for used furniture, and on the day we moved in I got down on one knee and presented Glenda with the ring that a loan from my parents enabled me to purchase. From the look on Glenda’s face you would have thought it was the Hope diamond.

The first few years of our marriage were good. Even though our funds were extremely limited, we found ways to enjoy the Big Apple and each other. Because we were so far from Brooklyn, I lost touch with my old roommates but I made new friends from among the other junior editors at the publishing house. Soon, a small group of us were hanging out over lunch or happy hour, and it felt a lot like my old gang back in college.

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