Indiscretion breeds troubles
Joining Steve and Mia this week is guest columnist Smarty Jones. (Yes, the horse.)
Q: I’ve been dating my boyfriend for about three years and we’re really great together. Six weeks ago, on a business trip, I ended up having a one-night stand with a man I met in a bar. I don’t know what came over me. It was totally stupid. I told myself I would never do anything like that again. But I just found out I’m pregnant. I don’t know whose it is. I’m freaking out. What should I do?
Mia: This is quite the “Melrose Place” predicament, isn’t it? I suppose you could not tell the BF and hope that the kid looks reasonably like him. Or you could secretly end the pregnancy. But could you live with either of those lies? Maybe you should ‘fess up and decide together how to deal with your relationship and the pregnancy.
Steve: Your choice is simple: short-term pain or a world of hurt. This is the kind of lie that will grow like kudzu with consequences you can’t imagine. Tell your guy exactly what happened. Then, jointly, make a decision about what to do next. A doctor can tell you about prenatal genetic testing.
Smarty: I’m probably the wrong one to ask. Speaking as a soon-to-be stud, I’m totally unfamiliar with the constraints of monogamy.
Q: My girlfriend told me yesterday that she has always fantasized about making love in a stable. She’s a city girl, and she thinks that having horses around her would be really erotic. I think it sounds smelly and weird. Should I do it?
Smarty: I agree, it definitely would be smelly and weird – for the poor horses who’d be forced to witness your unholy union! Don’t you two-leggers have any decency? Get a hotel room and put “Mr. Ed” on the TV.
Steve: Take her to a stable. That should pretty much put that fantasy to rest.
Mia: Sometimes it’s better for fantasies to stay fantasies. Maybe you could just rent a horsey movie, such as “National Velvet,” “The Horse Whisperer” or “Seabiscuit,” to put her in the mood.
Q: My husband is obsessed with horse racing. I knew when we met that he liked the track, but now he’s going all the time. He’s gambling away all our money, and now he’s talking about buying a horse! How do I tell him that racing is ruining our marriage?
Steve: I spent a fair amount of my youth at racetracks and observed that the only way to lose money faster than at a pari-mutuel window is to actually own the horse. Tell your husband that unless he wants to end up like those threadbare geezers with three-day stubble, poring over the Form at OTB hoping to make the rent on their two-room dump, he should get himself to a Gamblers Anonymous meeting.
Mia: Yeah, act fast, before he invests your savings in some lousy pony. Otherwise you could end up a Smarty-widow.
Smarty: Lady, you married a loser. If he doesn’t respond to the reins, try applying the whip.