You are the kind of guy who always kicks his tires before he leaves. So to speak. And yet, here you are, no money, no credit card, no cell phone, in the middle of the woods somewhere in Washington state. Or is it Canada already?
Last night you were the king of the party, all eyes on you. You were about to make the deal of a lifetime, reeling in those suckers, just needed to get them a little more drunk. Also, your wife was in Oregon visiting her sister, which was lucky because there was a woman. You do not normally do this kind of thing, but you have been feeling inseure lately, and then everything started turning out for the best.
Until you tried to get it on in one of the guest bedrooms. She was ready, you were pantless, but the thing was limp. God dammit! What makes a man exchange his axe for a rope? So to speak. In your case, it was the memory of when you first met your wife. The straw hat, the blue dress, the green grass, the blue sky, so melodramatic! Fuck this.
The woman’s Asian boyfriend barged in, his tailored suit and insanely toned physique, the golden ratio, his face saying “I take no shit.”
Oh shit, you did not know her boyfriend was one of the suckers. Now you were the sucker.
Gun in his hand! Think fast or you die. You throw a pillow. A chick move, but you grab your pants and jump out the window. Why he did not shoot is beyond anyone. And here you are.
You could say your wife saved your life. So to speak.