Excerpt
from Still Hot: The Uncensored Guide to Divorce, Dating, Sex, Spite and Happily Ever After
by Sue Mittenthal & Linda Reing
Keyword: cheating
Be alert to suspicious activity
surrounding your husband's high-tech gizmos. These are a dead giveaway.
Especially if you know how to hack.
- Has his BlackBerry turned into a CrackBerry addiction?
- Is he up at two in the morning, IM'ing "the office"?
- Did he schlep a laptop on your family trip to the Grand Canyon?
- And make nine secretive Airphone calls from the plane?
- As if he's the Secretary of State?
- On Air Force One?
- When he's really a Rite Aid pharmacist in coach?
Out of nowhere, his cell phone reception has permanently deteriorated -- but only at home. He now needs to leave the house in order to get a signal. He does this furtively and often.
You turn on the computer and notice his new screen name: "HotRod287."
Suddenly he has a weak bladder. Every time you go out to dinner, he uses the facilities at least three times. You catch him tucking away his BlackBerry as he emerges from the men's room.
Remember how you used to sit with your legs slung across his lap while you watched TV? Now his cell phone occupies your spot. Plus he leaves the room during the last four minutes of the Super Bowl because he just got a text message.
Does Liz's experience sound familiar? Before her husband went on a business trip, she asked how to reach him at his hotel. "I'll be in suite 1277, but just call my cell," he replied. "I turn off the room phone because I get wrong numbers all night long." Uh-huh. Liz didn't have to be be Nancy Drew to figure out the following:
- He wasn't staying at that hotel.
- In fact, there wasn't a room 1277 at that hotel.
- Because there were only seven floors in that hotel.
- He wasn't even in the city where the hotel was located.
- His business associates weren't coming along.
- He didn't want to be disturbed.
- Particularly by Liz.
When he goes to take a shower, he stashes his Black Berry in the pocket of his robe and locks the bathroom-door. It's a good fifteen minutes before he turns on the water.
While your family vacations at a lakeside cottage, he's pacing the dock. Every other day, he drives forty miles to an Internet café, claiming that "they have the only authentic espresso in the area."
You find him crunched in the closet, whispering on his cell phone while pretending to select a tie.
When you go online to Google a restaurant, you notice that the most recently visited website on the computer is russianladies.com.
And that he put a personal password on his Word documents. After you guess it in thirty seconds, you find drafts of letters to "Svetlana, my zaichik*."
Rifling through the filing cabinet, you spot a new folder marked "Travel." Inside, you find Map Quest directions from Minsk to Kiev.
Oh, sweetie. The worst is yet to come.
*Bunny Rabbit
Copyright © 2008 Sue Mittenthal and Linda Reing