The Other Woman
September 28, 2009
By Dana Neuts
I’ll never forget the look on my husband’s face when he held Betty for the first time. Cradling her almost reverently with a sparkle in his eyes and a childlike sense of wonder, Jim examined every facet of her sexy, smooth skin to ensure she was flawless and virginal, as promised. It was the way he used to gaze at me.
He spent days researching Betty’s numerous talents and learning how to best use and care for her. She was sleek, with smooth curves, a vision of perfection. She sang to him, dazzled him with sports trivia and kept him abreast of the latest news. Betty filled my husband with excitement, mystery and wonder. I, on the other hand, was merely human.
Though I had Bruce-my own BlackBerry-I was jealous of Betty. She was an upgrade, a Storm, and she offered Jim much more than I could. When she first moved in, Jim often disappeared to be alone with her. He’d explore her features and wipe off his fingerprints afterward so I wouldn’t know where he’d been. Then he started bringing Betty to bed. While I watched late night TV, he caressed her, learning all of her idiosyncrasies while she chirped with delight. I seethed with jealousy. Jim claimed he needed Betty near him 24/7 because he was on call, but I knew better. I could not compete.
He tried, perhaps out of guilt. We were newlyweds, after all. Before going to sleep, Jim laid Betty on his nightstand, trying to put her out of his mind, but the little vixen would not be ignored. She flirted with my husband with her winking red and green lights and her seductive purr.
Trying to ignore her siren song, I’d roll over and stare at Bruce. He was attractive, a bit older and thicker, but he got the job done. He was mine and I loved him. Bruce was fun and as comfortable as an old shoe, but he and I just didn’t connect the way Jim and Betty did. Bruce wasn’t… alluring. He tried to make me feel wanted; he’d blink his single red light at me and beep his single note. But it wasn’t enough. And Betty wasn’t letting Jim go.
I wanted to captivate him the way Betty had. I wanted Jim to leave her in his office when he came to bed and to look longingly at me when he discovered one of my new skills or talents. I knew I could fill her shoes. I could be Jim’s personal assistant, update him on the latest sports and weather, post to his Facebook profile. He didn’t need Betty.
But first I had to put Betty in her place. I considered the obvious-hiding her in our compost pile, accidentally flushing her down the toilet, tossing her from the 520 floating bridge-but I knew those methods wouldn’t work. Jim would just replace Betty with a newer, sleeker model, a Marilyn, a Roxanne, or a Vanessa.
Instead, I needed a more subtle approach. I had to wean Jim from Betty. I started texting him to say, “i love u,” e-mailing useful web links to him and flirting with him on Facebook. I silenced Bruce during dinner and turned him off at night. I even laid Bruce next to Betty one evening, hoping they’d hit it off. (They didn’t. Bruce thought she was too superficial, and Betty thought he was just too old.) I even left Jim’s browser open to a page on virulent BlackBerry viruses.
Gradually, as often happens, the shine began to come off Betty and Jim started spending less time with her. He’d leave her on the counter when he left the room, and he silenced her when we spent time together. I knew I’d made progress when Jim turned Betty off during date night. He thought I was crying at the end of Gran Torino, but I was secretly rejoicing.
Some things haven’t changed. Betty still comes to bed with us, but I’m the one Jim holds. I just hope Bruce doesn’t get jealous, either of Jim or this hot little iPhone 3GS I have my eye on….