Charlie Hanson sat in his work cubicle and stared at his computer screen. His mind really wasn't at work. No, in fact his mind was 27.3 miles away at the little two-bedroom ranch at 1346 Morningside Drive. Specifically, his thoughts were in the master bedroom where eighty-seven minutes previous he had left his wife Julie crying on their bed. The argument they'd had was just one more born out of the frustrations of the past two months.

Charley could barely remember the last time they had made love. For almost two months he had heard the litany — "I've got a headache." "My stomach is upset." "I just don't feel well." "It's my time of the month."

This morning had finally torn it for him. Just before he left the house he told her not to wait dinner on him and when she had asked why he had he'' said, "Since I can't get laid at home I'm going to try and find myself a woman to pick up. If I can't score that way maybe I'll hire a prostitute" and he had stormed out of the house.

Charlie knew the root of the problem. When Julie had found out she was pregnant she had been overjoyed. When three months later she had miscarried she had been devastated. The doctor told him that some depression was normal after such a circumstance, but that Julie would snap out of it in a week or two. Well, she hadn't, and when Charlie told her she should seek some professional help she had refused saying that there was nothing wrong with her. That morning when she had roughly pushed his hands away from her breast he had finally had enough and he had lost his cool because of it.

How Charlie managed to get any work done that day was a mystery, but somehow he had managed to clear out his 'in' basket and at 5 p.m. he found himself wondering what to do. He'd said that he wouldn't be home after work and while he regretted saying it, and wished to hell he hadn't, he was not going to go home until late. He had no intention of finding another woman. He loved Julie too much to do that to her, but he had to make her think he was serious. Maybe, just maybe, it would shake her out of her funk.

"God knows we can't go on this way" he thought.

At the elevator he ran into Tom Combs from accounting. "Charlie! How's the boy?"

"Fine Tom, yourself?"

"Couldn't be better Charlie, couldn't be better. Just been promoted to section manager. I'm going to stop at the Back Door for a few celebratory toddies. Care to join me?"

Charlie's problem of what to do now solved, he sat with Tom at the Back Door Lounge and considered the irony of the situation. He'd told Julie he was going to find a woman and even though he did not intend to the place was just crawling with women on the prowl. He caught several inviting glances and did his best to ignore them.

"It's too bad that we are both happily married Charlie," said Tom, "We could get laid in a hurry."

One absolutely gorgeous redhead with sparkling green eyes had even come to the table, looked him right in the eye and said, "Buy me a drink, dance with me, take me home, your choice."

Charlie had choked on his drink, laughed and said, "Why did this never happen to me before I got married?"

Tom and the redhead had both laughed and as she turned to go back to her table she said, "Think about it, I'll be her for a while."

Charlie did think about it. He thought about it long and hard, but in the end his love for Julie won out.

When Charlie got home Julie was in bed, either asleep or pretending to be, and she did not move when he slipped into bed beside her. In the morning Julie ignored him and he made no effort to talk to her. It was another long day for him at work as his mind was not on his work, but on Julie and what was going on with them. He got his paycheck at lunchtime and ran down to the corner bank to cash it. He put the usual ten- percent in savings, took $150 cash back and put the rest in his checking account. On the way home that night he considered ways to mend fences with Julie and thought that maybe he should look into getting some professional help. A marriage councilor perhaps or maybe even a psychiatrist. When he walked in the back door however Julie greeted him with a sneer and:

"Welcome home stud. How's the tomcat tonight? Didn't stop on the way home for a quickie from some slut?"

"Fuck you!" Charlie said as he walked through the kitchen on the way to his den. He heard Julie run upstairs crying and he was tempted to run after her, but then decided that it would be a sign of weakness at a time when he felt he needed to remain strong.

In the kitchen, on the counter next to the electric can opener, was a little glass jar where every payday Charlie would put $75 for Julie to use as her mad money. Because of the way things had gone on his arrival the night before he had not put the money in the jar. We he awoke Saturday morning and went downstairs Julie was already in the kitchen.

"Where's my money? My hair appointment is for 9:30 and I need to get going."

The tone of her voice pissed Charlie off and he said, "You don't get any this week. If I have to pay for the sex that I supposed to be able to get from you, you are going to be the one who pays for it."

The next week was a very frosty one for Charlie. There did not seem to be any way he could get himself out of the hole that he and Julie were both digging. Everything he said, everything she said, just made everything worse. When Friday came and he got home from work and was getting ready to put the money in the jar for Julie he noticed the note on the counter:

"Gone out to make some money. Don't bother waiting up."

Charlie did not intend to wait up — he wouldn't give her the satisfaction — but he found that he couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned and was still awake when he heard a car pull into the drive. When Julie did not come in for several minutes he got out of bed and went to the window to look out. He did not recognize the car, but there was no mistaking that it was Julie sitting on the front seat kissing some man that Charlie had never seen before. He saw them break the embrace and then Julie got out of the car and headed for the house. Charlie got back in bed and pretended to be asleep when Julie came into the room. When she got in bed she smelled strongly of alcohol and cigarettes. Charlie did not sleep well that night.

In the morning Charlie's attempts at conversation met with silence, but he kept after Julie until finally she said, "You want to know where I was? Okay, I'll tell you. You spent my money on whores so I decided to get it back and you know how I did it? I went down to the Shamrock bar and picked up a guy, took him to a hotel and fucked him. And you want to know something else? You must have spent my money in the low rent district because I got $200 for my pussy. How do you like those apples asshole!"

"Bullshit!" said Charlie.

"Oh yeah? Well just take a look at this."

Julie opened up her handbag and took out a fist full of money and threw it down on the table in front of Charlie and he saw at least $600.

"That's right shit head. Three guys apiece for $200 and a blow job for $75."

"No way, you couldn't do something like that."

"Oh yes I can and I'm going to do it again tonight."

"I don't believe a word of this. I don't know where you got the money, but you aren't going to get me to believe that you are selling yourself."