Unfaithful

So as I was walking into the subway today, some young construction worker who had been walking ahead of me on the street said "goodbye, beautiful" which ruled because even when I get no sleep and feel like a sack of doody I'm still rocking shit like a champ. Anyway, so I get onto the subway and in my car there is a woman in a cheap ill fitting Jones NY suit with some rolling luggage and a U-balding pattern guy standing exxxtremely close to her wearing some Jos.A Banks khakis and a french blue shirt. They were both in the mid 40s and it seemed like they were going to some work convention or something. They both had wedding rings but it was clear from their conversation that they were 100% having an affair, like he was touching her waist under her shitty suit and she was laughing and running her fingers through her frizzy hair and then touching his Alfani shirt. It was like a bad version of Unfaithful, except no one was sexy and I made sure to look extremely disgusted at them.

The most alarming part was that it occured to me that this sort of shit can happen to anybody if you're not careful. One day you're getting cat called by construction workers, the next day you're married, buying clothes at Macy's and Dress Barn, falling in love with your cubicle mate Gary or Susan, going to pharmaceutical conventions together, having an affair in Marriott Courtyard hotels and planning secret dates at Dave & Busters. It is a slipperly slope, and this is EXACTY why I'm not married because I'd rather die alone than go Dave & Busters under any circumstances.