THE MOODY MAVEN

I feel like this is a job for Dear AB, even though no one asked for me to stick my nose into it.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's a totally fake story presented so dryly, so deeply ensconced in sarcasm and irony that the joke's lost on me. But so well done that I cannot help but treat it as totally fucking real. Advice from a fucking jerk.

So here it is — I read an article about how to navigate holidays while having an affair.

That's right, a how-to story for maintaining a high level of the season's cheer for oneself, for one's partner, and one's squeeze — we will assume one squeeze per person for brevity and clarity — all from the safety of a no tell motel.

The main message being, Thanksgiving, Christmas, or whatever, should not be a barrier to the successful adulterer or ruin anybody's holiday. After all, the most successful adulterers in history maintained the status quo.

This strange little DIY was written for the adulterer, so I will tailor for the same —

Offer no revelations. They don't call it the no-tell motel for nothing. How in the world could you maintain cheerfulness while telling your spouse what a shithead you really are? So keep yer yap shut.

Make no promises. And don't forget the side squeeze, sitting alone in the fucking hotel room. Don't say, "Things will change, you'll see. Soon." Deep down they know you are a fucking liar, even if they desperately want to think otherwise.

Certainly avoid admissions. Sometimes someone will get an inkling of what's going on. A blunt, direct questioner might try to catch you off-guard. You must be prepared. Say you are pulling on your winter coat to "go get an extra bottle of wine" when suddenly you hear, "Are you seeing someone else?"

Pretty direct, right? Often these kinds of questions are blurted out in a flashing moment of despair and desperation. You could move right in an say, "Honey, no. I love you" and plant a soft little kiss. Or you could flash angry and make an accusation — "No, of course not! You need to build more self confidence and stop poisoning everything with your paranoia!"

Both answers play against the subconscious undermining and disquiet your affair is causing those around you. Both will get you out the door to your rendezvous. Either response makes you a fucker.

Sometimes the boldest moves are so unbelievable that, well, no one would believe them. So be audacious, be what some might call strikingly obvious. He's a smart guy, right? No one would do something so utterly stupid.

Find the audacity to leave your hotel receipts on your dresser. Complain about the service you got at that fancy restaurant. Point out how expensive drinks are at that new place you never quite manage to visit with your spouse.

All in all, this little DIY adulterous gem so deserving of the Second Circle of Hell had me thinking about different levels of evil. Cheating is bad enough, the audacity of almost purposefully hiding in plain sight should involve the Ninth Circle, too.

Given that it took time to get the awful taste of this out of my mouth, I'd needed a few weeks to come around enough to write this. But since I waited so long, now I can't find the original article.

I can only assume that the author got his ass handed to him. It would be my greatest hope if the next holiday season finds him shivering alone in his car drinking cheap vodka from a superman thermos he got on sale at the Goodwill.

And I conjure up this image with all the lingering joie-de-vivre remaining from this past holiday season.