My car is in the shop this morning. So I take Mrs. Bissage’s car to work.
And what do I find? Lipstick on her collar? A single, long blond hair?
I find something much, much worse. There they were. All loaded in the CD player. Laughing at me. Bobby Sherman. Donny Osmond! David Cassidy!! Andy Gibb!!! Leif Garrett!!1!!!!!!!1!!!!!
I sit there in stunned silence. My world comes crashing down around me. Short of breath. Head spinning. Heart pounding. Palms sweating. What to do? WHAT TO DO???
And then . . . I know what to do.
Pedal to the metal, off I go, driving like a maniac to the nearest Tower Records. I am in and out in an instant, and off I drive to a secluded spot where I can be alone, by myself.
I put my newest purchase in the CD player. And I climb into the back seat.
Katy Perry kissed a girl . . . and she liked it.
And so did I, my dear internet friends. So did I.
And now . . . and now . . . Mrs. Bissage and I . . . are . . . even.