Til Death Do Us Part...Or Something Better Comes Along

Marriage: the sacred taking of vows in front of all your friends and family, under God or whoever you believe in, and in a fabulous Monique Lhullier gown (god willing). It's suppose to last forever and not only that, but you're suppose to forsake all others. But in a society where monogamy is about as popular as barf-flavored wedding cake, the divorce rate is high and many have stepped out on their honey's.

A couple years ago, I was dating an entrepreneur named Kerry. He had tons of money, lots of cars (which I may have liked more than him in hindsight), and houses in plenty of locations. He had a condo in New York, a house in Pittsburgh, which I never saw, and another in some vacationy type place-I don't remember. He was tons of fun to be around and very nice to look at. He was incredibly sexy in that bad boy sort of way and in my young twenties, I took great care in finding the baddest boys out there...moving on. One night, we went to my favorite mexican restaurant in Hell's Kitchen and after several margaritas, we stopped by his office in midtown. He needed to see if a fax came in. Well, long story short, we had great sex on his desk chair. I always meant to find out what kind of chair it was because it was so comfortable, not to mention conducive to drunken sex, but I never found out because of what happened next. While he was messing around in his office, I decided to peruse the magazines in the lobby. One was a car magazine with him on the cover (I told you he had crazy cars). So I flip through and skim the article and what do I find? A mention of a wife. Whhaaat? A wife? Like, you're married? I closed the magazine and thought for a second. "How do you want to handle this?" I reviewed the situation for a moment: was that why I'd never seen the house in Pittsburgh? Was the family stashed away there? I have a pretty imaginative brain, so the out of town trips and last minute date requests all started to blur into a giant ball of THIS GUY WAS MARRIED! I stood up form the plush couch and I sauntered into his office and said, "So, Kerry, you're married?" The look on his face was so comical, I could maybe die now reminiscing. "Married? What are you talking about?" OK, not the correct answer. A simple no would've been nice (although I still would've been out). I just looked at him blankly so he replied, "The editor of that magazine is a good friend of mine. He thought it'd be funny to put that in there." Seriously? Seriously? (I'd say it again, but I don't want to risk sounding like a Grey's Anatomy character). And the manner in which he said it was so lackadaisical I could almost smell the lie coming off his breath. I would love to say that I took off like a runaway bride, but even I have my moments and he was good in bed, so a week later I slept with himone last time and then I called it quits and ignored his phone calls.

But all this leads to how a married man could cheat so easily and (without any kind of fanfare) lie like the proverbial rug. I'd like to think there are a few good married men out there, but I'm losing hope honestly. I went to a wedding just last month and decided that the gorgeous drummer in the wedding band had to be mine-that is, until I noticed the real wedding band: on his finger. Oh well, I thought and proceeded to have a great night and take advantage of the open bar. I noticed him watching me quite a few times and at the end of the night, as the band was packing up, he motioned for me to come over to him. My sister was nearby and I asked her if she thought his head nods were directed at me. Her answer: "Yes, but he's married." Right, that's what I thought too, but when I looked through my wedding buzzed haze, there was no ring on his finger. Now, I could've sworn it had been there before, but suddenly it had vanished. Coincidence? Ha about as likely as a marriage lasting long enough to reach it's silver anniversary. Why bother to "put a ring on it" if you're just gonna take it off when someone rings your alarm?

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo Blackie Collins

Blackie Collins is a Manhattan girl with a big heart and a closet full of girly things like skirts and heels. She loves laying on the beach, dogs with people names like Linda, hoop earrings, and sky-high platform heels. When she isn't writing, she can be found scouring blogs, brunching with friends, or enjoying happy hour at any hour of the day. Her true passion is boys. It is perhaps the reason she can't get anything done. She lives in a great, rent controlled apartment with a great, uncontrolled dog. She has quite a few parking tickets, and dreams of the day DVF or YSL decide to slum it with a line in Target. Get it in with her at http://thatbitchstolemyline.com, email her at blckcollins@gmail.com, or follow her on Twitter @blackiecollins.

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