RULES FOR A SCARLET WOMAN
The other woman. That harlot. That hussy.
That filth in her skin tight dress and peroxided hair (or scarlet mane – pick your stereotype).Image via curvestokill.com.
Some of us are those women. We look relatively normal on the outside, you probably couldn’t even pick us out of a line up. Perhaps the guilt lines ambushing our eyes might be the only betraying clue to our cutting secret.
Adultery is a horrific situation as no one can possibly win.
But scarlet women exist. Let’s not pretend that “we” don’t. So let’s establish some ground rules, in a simple, easy to follow “Dos and Don’ts” format to prevent insanity.
For the purpose of simplicity, in this instance we’ll assume that the married party is a “he” and the other woman is a “she”. In real life, I acknowledge that there are variations in the gender roles but let’s just go with a textbook scenario as the situation is probably already more complex than something very complicated.
Let’s start with the “don’ts”.
Don’t fall in love.
Never, ever fall in love. In the name of all that’s sacred, never fall in love with him. Just don’t. Don’t even contemplate love as an option. It will ruin you. Am I clear on that? DO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM. And when you do, make sure you take yourself off to a day spa (or about three hundred and sixty five of them), cease all contact with the offending party, engage in awful hate sex with an unrelated individual and do some spells.
Because they will NEVER leave their wife. It’s not even an option. And when they do, it will not be for you; it’ll be for someone that they’ve been seeing behind your back and you’ll be outraged that he was cheating on you with someone else that wasn’t his wife.
This is easily one of the most enticing activities known to humankind. Stalking is an activity that possesses an avalanche effect which has the potential to snowball you all the way into a nineteen sixties style mental asylum. Instill a self imposed internet ban until you can master your mouse clicking enough to stop Googling your first name + his surname; it ‘ain’t guh huppen.’ Don’t drive past his work/sporting ground/preferred coffee studio even if it shortens your journey by thirty minutes. NB: It’s not considered a journey if you’re just getting in the car to drive past his house.
Don’t enjoy his creative pursuits.
Don’t read the book he wrote. Or drink the wine he made or admire the building site he demolished. Because men doing and creating things is a glorious turn on for lady folk and the aim here is to step away from the conjugated man and get one of your own. Or be happy on your own or something very Liz Lemon like that.
Now the “fun” part. The “dos”.
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