Friday, November 21, 2008

Saved by Agent Provacateur

Hubby's steady decrease in physical activities with me had me on the verge of falling back into drug use. We used to have a decent horizontal life, it puzzled me how he had he completely lost any interest in it? All my attempts, that would drive any other man insane, hubby turned down without hesitation. You might remember my blog post of the failed attempt to barge into hubby's office for a lunch 'snack', wearing only a fur. The whipped cream trick had zero effect either.
"Be careful", he said without taking his eyes of the tv, "you might stain the persian rug with that stuff". 
The only one licking any cream off me that night was Otto. 

So I spent a weekend alone in Paris. My plan was to focus all my energy on shopping instead of thinking. But I laid sleepless a whole night (despite half a valium) just contemplating on how he didn't want me. At dawn, it dawned on me - it wasn't my fault. Despite this revelation, I had to give this marriage one last shot. 

My last, and priciest, attempt to win hubby back was through my dear friend Agent Provocateur. In the 2,5 hours I spent trying on and picking out the right 'outfits' to lure my hubby back, I befriended the assistant Francois. At the time I was in a catatonic state of no self awareness, miserably stuck on how I could get hubby's interest. Francois adored me, not only because I was his best customer all year, but also reminded him of princess Grace and I possessed a princess-like grace. He convinced me to have drinks with him one night at Hotel Costes, a place for the rich and attractive. As soon as the male guests had seen Francois' feminine hand movements and realized he was gay, they gathered around me. Francois leaned back in his chair, smiling over at me through the cigarette smoke.
"There's nothing wrong with you, dear. All men in Paris can't be wrong", Francois kindly pointed out, "but one American asshole is". 

I left Paris with withdrawls - and a suitcase full of useless underwear. I was worried that upon my return I'd forget my newly learnt lessons and fall back into old patterns, but I managed to step up. So I had my lawyer talk to hubby's lawyer to add something new to our prenup, or else.. 

Sex. At least every fortknight. 

I got the documents in return - signed. Phew. Apparently he had no problem performing when bound legally. That was enough for me to realize Francois was right, the problem was not me.

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