So, it seems I’m the town whore

My morning DJs recently talked about a therapist’s book on infidelity. This guy claims that someone who has lunch or cocktails … or enjoys a movie or deep conversations … or shares jokes and e-mails with a member of the opposite sex is cheating on the significant other, committing emotional infidelity. It’s what broke up Brad and Jennifer, you know. If that’s true, then I was an emotional infidel with five men last week.

Ugh. I’ve dealt with this crap since Carl Fuqua and I shared a locker our senior year in high school. I’ve been hated by wives and girlfriends for 30 years. Why can’t a man and woman be friends without becoming sexual suspects?

I love my male friends — straight/gay, married/single, young/old, geeky/cool, arty/corporate — I collect them all. I prefer them to most women I know, which is probably why I have just a handful of great girlfriends. My guys are straightforward, honest and fun, and there in a flash when I need them. (BTW, thanks to Paul and Francesco for their technical assistance when I started my blog.)

Now, you know I love you dearly, but there’s no romance, no sexual tension between us, right? My heart’s taken. OK, so maybe we flirt a bit at times — but who doesn’t enjoy the occasional harmless, witty flirt? Are we having an emotional affair, or enjoying a good friendship? Should I think twice before joining you for Mexican food or sharing our frustrations?

To hell with M. Gary Neuman and his emotional infidelity. Let’s grab a beer and bitch about the opposite sex.

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