Frauds & Frankensteins

Let’s talk about infidelity. You’re already uncomfortable, the way you shifted in your seat gave you away. But before you have a conniption we’re not talking about your infidelity, we’re talking about everyone else’s. (Exhale). 

It’s certainly not a taboo topic. It’s not a new topic either.  Glossy, gossip magazines around the world rejoiced when Monica dropped the bomb. No last name necessary, you know which Monica I mean. For years we followed Prince Charles and his ‘secret’ saga with Camilla, like we didn’t know the truth Charlie. More recently Angelina Jolie, Tiger Woods, Fantasia and Alicia Keys all took their licks, some more than others.  (‘Keys in Tramp Minor’ shirts now in production). And those are just a few of the celebs, we haven’t even started in on the ones in your office yet. We were there, taking it all in. Every caught-on-Blackberry-camera step of the way. We read it, watched it, karaoked to it, ‘liked’ it on Facebook and made Twitter chirp with the news.

So why is that? What’s the big deal? What’s our fascination?

Plain and simple, misery loves company and no one wants to be in it alone. 

If you’re being cheated on, you want to know it’s not because you’re a loser. (For the record, you’re not a loser).  If you’re doing the cheating, you still want to know you’re not the only loser cheating. (For the record, you’re not the only loser).  What? Was that harsh? I’m sorry I called you a loser, fraud. Because I don’t care what the justifiable reason is for your cheating, or if you didn’t mean to cheat. It still hurts someone else, so just don’t do it. Ok, so maybe we are talking about your infidelity. (Inhale. Panic!). But seriously, if we acted like the adults we claim to be, we’d save the people we claim to love lots of heartache. And that my friends, is the real truth of the matter. 

If you love me, stop keeping secrets and tell me the truth. That goes for partners and friends. (Not gossip friends, truth, careful there).  If you want to be with someone else, go for it and good luck. I’m not Frankenstein. That’s right, not Frankenstein. In other words, I was alive when you found me, ergo, I lived before you came along, so contrary to what you think, there’s a good chance I’ll keeping living after you go too. I’ll cry, throw a major hissy fit and cry some more. Things may get broken. But twelve Advils later, life will go on. Happily.

So don't be a fraud if you don't date a Frankenstein. Got it? Good.