"Yeah, so after only three dates, I totally hit that."
My wife gave me a strange look. I'd been building up a strong case as to why GTA IV was worthy of an actual purchase (she accepts that I'm a frequent renter, but casually seeks justification whenever I earmark $60 for a video game). But, despite my arguments that it brilliantly unfolds the fresh-off-the-boat, immigrant-out-of-water, post-millenial terrorist-striken bloody-nosed American Dream experience, it was still possible I'd just said something wrong. And when she'd retreated to the reading room for the rest of the night to finish Ender's Game ahead of me (she knows I hate it when she does that with books I've been promising to finish), then it only confirmed my suspicions. Saying "I totally hit that" in reference to a videogame fictional girlfriend I'd only fictionally dated three times, on a game I'd owned less than 24 hours, was apparently crossing some line of marital fidelity I'd previously attributed only an infintesimal amount of importance upon.
But my wife made it passive-agressively clear that this seemingly minor indiscretion on my part would not go unpunished. Just a few minutes ago, she came into my Man Cave, set the book down on the corner of my desk, and said "I'm done" before walking right back out. She shut the door.
I don't necessarily see a connection, but tonight I'll probably go and drop $150 - $200 on lapdances at the Triangle Club before I crawl into my very, very cold side of the bed.