In the four year history of insideSTL.com, no writer has received more attention than Maggie Barlow. After writing for the site every Wednesday for two years, Maggie decided to shut it down a few months ago.

 
Earlier this week, she contacted me with a column...telling quite a story regarding what's gone on in her life since she left insideSTL.com.


Perhaps she will return to writing regularly for us. Perhaps this is a one time thing. The door is always open. But, in the meantime...here it is:

 
Houston, We Have a Problem


I do not know so much about the city of Houston.


I know it is fucking hot there and I know they have this Astrodome thing; which is mainly used now for stuff like rodeos and conventions. I know Houston is like one of the largest cities in Texas and I know they keep Barbara Bush away from microphones there.

 
Oh, and I know my husband spent $240 at a strip club in Houston last week.

 
Yeah, I should prolly back up a bit here…

 
If any of you have been following my blog on MySpace or Twitter, you are already aware of the problems in my marriage, and I apologize for the duplicity in content. For those of you who have better things to do than troll those sites and read the inane intricacies of my marriage-interuptus, I will expound.


While I was in St. Louis for a funeral last month, David decided it was time for him to accept a job in Houston and elected to move there without me. Yeah, he rented an apartment there, packed up most of his stuff, had his vehicle serviced, had my oldest dog cremated (presumably, he died first) got a haircut, and opened a new checking account.


Clearly, he forgot to change the billing address for his VISA card.

 
So, I am sitting here with 50% fewer canines and 100% fewer husbands than I used to have around here, envisioning David drinking beer from one of those giant boot-shaped mugs while watching a sturdy girl wearing a G-string and a cowboy hat and sporting a Hank JR. tattoo on her butt, taking her clothes off to the latest Gretchen Wilson song.
 
 
I am beginning to think I maybe should have done some things differently…

 
Should I not have allowed the sexual escapades within our marriage?

 
Yeah, I have spoken to David several times since he left. He has called me more often than I have called him. He has yet to have any contact with Nick, and that saddens me.


It saddens me because while I am aware that I played a significant role in this ménage’ a faux pas, I feel that I am guilty of allowing something which I could have avoided. Yeah, I was clearly the only player in the game with the ability of abstract thought and without the hindrance of a penis as an obstacle to sound judgment.


I knew better, and I did it anyway. So now I am lying in the proverbial bed, which I made…alone.


I should also mention that Terri lives with me now. David has been gone for fourteen days and Terri and I have had sex twice in the last six days.


I have not had sex with Nick. If anyone lost any money on that, well, shame on you for thinking about me in that way. However, I did spend a few hours with Nick last Saturday, innocently (yeah, whatever) at the beach, and we talked as much as anyone can talk with Nick. I wore my new white bikini because I wanted to look hot, and yeah, I wanted Nick to notice me in that way, and if he happened to talk to David…well, I wanted that to come up in the conversation.


I have written before that Nick is a nice guy…a hot guy, and I still consider him a good friend. However, if any of you have ever tried to have a meaningful conversation with someone with an IQ barely at room temperature, then you will understand my frustration. I rehearsed what I wanted to say to him this day, but my efforts were mostly in vain. Nick was distracted quite often; not by my elevated level of hotness, instead he was busy looking at other girls with good boobs, motorcycles, Frisbees, trucks with big tires, and just about any shiny object.


When I tried to talk about my feelings, Nick stared blankly at me, kinda like a cow looking at a new gate.

 
Quickly, I realized extracting any useful information or counsel from him would be like asking that chick who writes on Monday for advice on raising hamsters.


I went home afterwards, took a nice long bath with Terri, and had sex. We ordered pizza, teased the delivery guy, watched The Time Traveler’s Wife (loved the book, loved the movie), and ate ice cream from the container…mostly while naked.


I am beginning to understand Terri more than I once did. She has some fucking attention deficit disorder; which is compounded by her cell phone. She has not worked for a few months now, so her phone has been turned off. This seems to help her focus on other things…like turning off the stove when she is finished using it, hygiene, and me. I am fairly certain that David is not coming back to Florida, and he has not asked me to come to Houston, so I need things to fill voids and occupy my time here. Terri is becoming a better friend to me, and I am enjoying her staying here.


Now, we both need to get jobs doing something…


So, David called on Sunday night. We talked for forty-five minutes about his job, Houston, the people he manages, and what was going on here. I told him about Terri living here, I told him about the time with Nick at the beach, I told him about having sex with Terri…


And, I told him I paid his VISA bill.


David also admitted that he spent another $100 in cash that night.


He proceeded to explain that it was a work-related outing, and that they were all

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