Wifi Vs. Wife
By Jimmy Chen
Being connected
A wife may make you feel more “connected” to the world, and this is somewhat true, but only with her mother and friends. Prepare to spend every other weekend with your super civil Mother-in-law (may those hyphens represent chains to which you are forever bound), whose subdued feelings towards your salary, education, and atheism might have been conveyed if you ever paid attention to her moving mouth. Tonight is “Girl’s Night In,” a euphemism to somehow kill 5 hours after work so that 7-8 women may propagate your living room eating bon bons whilst regaling one another with tales of badly executed Margarita-enabled handjobs in Cancun during spring break, which reminds you — sitting at the bar with a bland Jameson and soda — you really have to “hand” it to them how far they’ve gotten by in life with such bad hand-and-eye coordination. No wonder their husbands all have a constant chafed look in their small worried eyes. Fast forward 6 hours and thank God they’re gone, your wife in the shower, and a quick self-administered wank job before bed, you in front of the computer streaming “Pump Love Party (part 1 of 3).”
WIFI 1 : WIFE 0
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Speed
A properly installed and reasonably situated router should exert wifi at optimal “bars” and be very fast. You should be able to download a 6MB clip i.e. “Pump Love Party (part 2 of 3)” or, say “Pump Love Party (part 3 of 3)” in about 35 seconds. Your wife, however — a woman — may not be quite so fast. For example, and there are many, but this one should do: You and your wife need to be at a party in one hour. You need to pick up a bottle of wine. Travel time is an estimated 40 minutes. And she needs to buy feminine supplies. This all adds up to needing to leave now. You are sitting, already in your shoes and jacket, keys in hand, on the couch while your wife applies a strange manic “hurricane effect” to your shared walk-in closet while she decides on which of the four outfits to wear. You say “Honey, it all looks good, please, we need to leave this instant.” Here are some important answers: Does she look fat? No. Did you fill up the tank? Yes. How does she look in these pumps? Amazing. But in the car she’s angry at you for rushing her, an anger pooled into the aggregate of her slow resentment also known as “just a feeling” or “oh, nothing,” which will be added to every single day, the sour feeling of a marriage ceviched in lime, and eventually used at her convenience whenever an argument calls for it, for the rest of your slowly more slowed life.
WIFI 1 : WIFE 0
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Cost
A decent and respectful engagement ring costs at least $4,000 – 5,000 dollars. A honeymoon will run you about the same. Each valentine’s and anniversary dinner should?will, be up to $250. Let’s not forget the occasional, yet perennial, sweet gestures (e.g. handbags, scarfs, bracelets, etc.) to keep her heart lubed up for the next time your prostate is about to explode. And please, we can’t forget the big stuff, the weekly semi-subtle comments about the bathroom or kitchen’s condition until, um, the bathroom and/or kitchen is remodeled at $10K a pop — or the nice cottage by the lake until it’s a second mortgage. The “street value” of a bj is $120 (adjusted for “inflation,” sorry) which means your wife owes you about 200 bjs, and you’re simply asking for one. The math is simple, no calculator or mouthwash needed: you get 0 bjs because, um, Dr. Phil and/or Oz or some TV dumbfuck said “it” contains unneeded calories. Suddenly, Comcast’s $49.00 monthly internet plus a mere $67.12 for the router seems pretty reasonable, if not cheap — a word your wife said bjs made her feel, which brings us full circle to “Pump Love Party” (parts 1, 2 and 3). It’s a vicious cycle.
WIFI 1 : WIFE 0
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Drinking
Do not attempt to be a bro with your router by pouring beer on it, for it will break. Do not drive drunk to BestBuy that same night and buy a new router, and pour beer on it. It will break. Your wife at least can have 1-2 drinks with you, some Pinto Gris with fish and steamed peas and carrots. After that you casually reach for the hard stuff e.g. whisky and gin, so begins argument #8 re: how she’s tired of telling you to stop drinking, how the increase of what you consume nightly worries her, the explosive anger at inanimate objects including walls. You politely explain to her that white wine is unsatisfying, and that one of the redeeming factors in this hell hole of a life is the volition one has to drink 4-5 shots of whatever, and you don’t want such freedom hindered by the one person in this world who is supposed to be “on your side,” thus beginning argument #5 re: who is or isn’t on whose side. Fast forward 3 hours and you’re both in bed, curved backs turned against each other as sullen parentheses marking parenthetical sorrys never given. Still, she did have a glass of wine with you, even if that glass tasted like cold urine.
WIFI 0 : WIFE 1