Married and Bored: The Pleasure in Having No Pleasure

In a story from long ago lived a character named Mr. Pococurante, who had all of the finest things in the world, he enjoyed the company of the world’s most beautiful women, he overlooked his own lush gardens, and he purchased his own library and a personal opera. He found no pleasure in any of it. However, he loved to complain and only enjoyed being displeased. He paradoxically only found pleasure in having no pleasure. This sounds ridiculous of course, until you recall that you are Married-n-Bored and all things ridiculous somehow apply to your life. Let me make perfect sense of what ‘the pleasure in having no pleasure’ means.

Part 1: Imagine yourself on a typical Friday night. You want to go out and watch the NBA finals with your two friends and bray at the moon like three tipsy donkeys. Too bad for you, but honey has plans for dinner with the Wilkersons – you know the couple – the couple that reminds you of Rush Limbaugh and a combination of Edith Bunker and Wheezy. Obviously what you want to do is watch the NBA finals. Watching the finals would make you happy, so you insist on going to the Wilkersons. There you go, chasing displeasure. First you whine to yourself over the predicament, then you decide to go with your wife to dinner against your better judgment.

Part 2: You act like everything is ok on the way to dinner, but you are also blatantly aloof about the affair, aloof enough that you drive your wife crazy with irritation. Dinner at the Wilkerson’s has you ready to commit arson but you wear a placid smile the entire time while talking about the best way to eradicate creeping charlie and crabgrass from the lawn as if you give a hoot. Even if Mr. Wilkerson turns out to be pretty cool and wants to watch the game, you still feel pissed about having to watch the game outside of your element (NOTE: your element is ‘Beansnappers’ Gentlemen’s Club).

Part 3: Whether or not you had a good time, you ride home with your wife acting like a fat child who hasn’t eaten in four hours. She becomes angry at you for even coming along to dinner. She says, “Next time just go out with your friends if you hate the Wilkersons so much!” Now your wife is mad and you are briefly, very briefly pleased, but then you realize that she has just entered the marital coma known as the silent treatment, and that is displeasing to you. “Oh no,” you think, “now she’s mad and I remember that I love her.” You truly are a co-dependant man, but will never, ever admit it. Good for you!

Part 4: Although men should enjoy the silent treatment, somehow the fact that she is not talking gets under your skin like an Alabama chigger. Soon enough, silly husband, you are doing all kinds of things to make her happy again. Her misery makes you want to help her, so you buy flowers and spend the night watching back-to-back episodes of ‘Gilmore Girls,’ which of course makes you miserable.

Part 5: She finally gives in and offers you the glorious make-up sex. For those five minutes of sex you are happy only because you are thinking of banging the elder Gilmore. Soon enough the sex is over, and your wife has accepted you once again. But now she wants to spend lots of time together and you are once again somewhat miserable.

Part 6: The sexy girl at work that always wears a thong wants to strip you down like an immigrant at the border, but being only somewhat miserable with your marriage you decline her advance and say, “I’m a family man. Sorry.” So the hot girl ends up boning your friend, Single-n-Lonely, and his motor-mouth can’t stop telling you in great detail how her tongue moved like a goose’s neck and he felt like he was Lane Frost riding Red Rock on the 1987 Pro Rodeo Circuit.

Part 7: Next Friday night, Red Sox-Yankees game – scheduled for 7:05 in the evening. However, when you were kissing your wife’s ass you told her that you enjoyed the Wilkersons and that you think it’s great that your wife is willing to meet new people. Back to suburban hell and lawn care tips for you.

And the cycle goes on, and on, and on. You will always find pleasure in having no pleasure. So does your wife. Even when you have the opportunity to agree on something, you will pick an opposing viewpoint. She wants ice cream, you want cake. She says “Peas!” You tear your clothes and scream, “Carrots!” Together you are both happily miserable pricks, utterly co-dependant, and you are proud of your marriage that you rarely enjoyed a minute of. All I have to say is, congratulations, you carry the torch of a longstanding tradition. One of our mottos in the world of Married-n-Bored is ‘Embrace your misery for fifty years and you get to have a nice party before you die.’

Thriving in angst,

Married-n-Bored
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