Your Wife Decides to get Implants…

Six months ago, my friend Brad called me out of the blue and wanted us to catch up. I thought that was weird. Brad and I grew more and more apart once he got married. Don't get me wrong, we were still friends, but as college roommates, we were best buds. We would call each other daily. Every Thursday night was Ladies Night, and we would always hang out at our favorite college bar. It was called ‘The Library.’ Every college student loved that bar for one primary reason. You can be honest with your parents whenever they ask, “where are you going, ” or “ Where were you last night?” I always answered my mother with a straight, guiltless tone, “At the Library.”

Brad was your average college student. He buzzed-cut his light brown hair like a Marine recruit. He was average height but of a stocky build with broad shoulders, and his biceps were always too big for his shirt sleeves. He spent hours in the gym, using free weights and dumbells. Girls always took a quick second look at him at the bars, but he was oblivious to their stares.

Brad and I always had a great time together. And after two beers, Brad came out of his shell. His gift was storytelling. He had a hilarious story about someone on campus. The gossip he knew. He knew more dirt on our classmates than the school psychologist. He spent so much time at the gym that he heard the latest gossip from his friends working on the bench.

I met my wife Ashley and spent a lot of time with her when we first met. But I always tried to spend as much time with my best friend, Brad. Brad was a great guy. He needed more time to come out of his shell whenever he met someone new. Some people called him shy or awkward, but Brad was reserved and needed more time to warm up to you. Ashley wasn’t the jealous type, and she was always free to join us at the bars. But Ashley didn’t feel threatened or jealous of Brad. If we wanted to go out, it was OK with her. I liked that about Ashley. She wasn’t a control freak, unlike my past girlfriends.

Brad seemed excited on the phone, and he kept me on the line for a good fifteen minutes. He asked about my married life and if we were having another child. I told him, “ I always wanted three kids, but having two boys, I’m exhausted trying to keep up with these two. Ashley wants a little girl; she wouldn't mind three.” Unfortunately, I had to cut him short because of work, and I told him, “let’s continue this at our old college hangout, for good ole time’s sake.” He thanked me and told me that he couldn't wait to see me there.

I asked Brad, “What time do you want to meet?”

“What time do we always meet, Joe?”

“Six-thirty it is,” I said, and I hanged up.

I figured that Brad was getting nostalgic. It had been ten years since we graduated. I'll bet there the announcement of our ten-year college reunion made him reminisce about the good ole days. Maybe he was on a committee and wanted me to help him. It would be fun seeing the college gang once more. I can't imagine what had happened to all of them, where they are, what they are up to. I sorely missed the good ole days. It sucks to be a responsible adult. It’s so dull.

I walk into “The Library,” and I am amazed that it hasn’t changed. The same bar, gigantic mirror, and the rows upon rows of liquor bottles that stand neatly upon the shelf were still there. The standing bar tables are untouched. Down the aisle, Brad was sitting at the high table where we frequently met in our old college glory days. Brad was still solid, but his waist had popped a couple of inches beyond his belt. His face lit up when he saw me, and he waved me down to the table where he sat. He did the same thing back when we struggled to meet girls in our early college days at the Library. Just for an instant, I felt I was back in time. I walked straight to his table.

Brad motioned me to have a seat next to him. He immediately got the attention of the passing waitress and rudely pressed her to bring two beers to his table. Brad had started drinking and looked as if he had consumed more than two beers. That’s all it took to get himself out of his shy self.

“Am I wrong in thinking that college girls are hotter now than ten years ago?” Brad announced as he allowed his eye to wander from one pretty face to another. I had to admit; that the girls seemed gorgeous now than they were ten years ago. I smiled, looked sharply at him, and said, “Don’t you get me in trouble now. I'm a happily married man with a family and two toddlers, mind you.”

Then something came over Brad; the hearty boyish smile dropped from his face. He sank himself into his chair. And a tear rolled down his cheek. Now I knew why he called me. Something happened; he needed me.

“Joe, I'm a fool. I was so blind not to see it. I just wanted a family, a little boy. I wanted to play catch with my little boy. It’s not going to happen.” Brad tried to resist the urge to cry, but he struggled and let loose. He buried his head in his crossed arms and started sobbing on the high-top table. I feared the worst that his wife was pregnant and they had just lost their baby.

“Brad, what's going on? I had no idea you were so sad. Talk to me. Is there anything I can do? I'm here for you. Tell me what happened.”

I still was clueless about what was bothering Brad. I didn’t know what to think. Did they lose the baby? Did the doctor say his kid was deformed? Again, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think they were having a baby.

Joe just sobbed on the table, crying like a five-year-old. After a moment, he was able to gain his composure and lifted his face out of his crossed arms. His eyes were red with tears, his face frowning with pain. “Joe, I’m sorry, but I need a friend. I don’t know what to do. I can’t believe she could do this to me; I didn’t deserve this.”

It was worse than I thought...Marital problems. I patted Joe on the back. Our tall and thin waitress shows up with two large glasses of ale and sets them before us. Her long jet-black hair fell beyond her shoulders. She looks at Joe and mumbles, “ Is he alright? Do you want me to call the manager?” I smiled and reassured her that it was okay, “Got in an argument with his wife, needs to talk and get it off his chest; you know guy talk stuff. He’ll be fine.” She shrugged her shoulders and eagerly left us alone.

Joe met Sally a few months after I met Ashley. Sally was very reserved and faceless. Average height with dark frizzy hair and freckles. She was a plain Jane as college girls go, except she had green eyes. She never wanted to be open with anyone. She seldom drank with us at parties and was the quietest one in the group. She would never share any of her life stories with the group. Everybody in our group revealed their inner secrets when we were drunk and having a good time. We traded stories of our first dates, our first kiss, our prom disasters. With her, it was none of that. She was as tight as a drum. Nothing about her came out. At first, I thought, we all thought, she was super shy and uptight. We tried to coax her to relax and have a few beers. She refused. She stuck with one drink. She said it was a rum and Coke, but I bet you it was just a Coke. Maybe she was a control freak. Anyway, Brad and Sally spent less and less time with the gang during our final year of college. I saw less and less of Brad.

I became engaged to Ashley, and we married a year after college. Brad was my best man; I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d hoped that we could become close again, now that he was my best man. It didn’t happen. Fast forward, I learned he got engaged soon after our wedding. After her law school graduation, Sally and Brad set the date a year later. We missed the wedding because Ashley went into labor. I was one of the groomsmen. I heard later that Sally was pissed off at me. I hoped Sally would eventually forgive me. It didn’t happen. Se la vie.

Brad took his beer glass and downed half of it in one gulp. It was serious. Joe had seen him do this once before when he failed organic chemistry. Brad couldn’t resist. He couldn’t wait, “ What happened with you and Sally?”

Brad started to blab his story, “ I thought things would get better once she worked at the law firm. She had deadlines and unruly clients, but she was sick of it after two years. She wanted to have her practice and open her own office. So we did. It was rough for six months, but she got established and focused on her favorite niche.

I interrupted him and asked,” Niche, lawyers have specialties?”

“Oh yeah, Joe, law can be very specialized. She wanted to specialize in divorce law. And she was good at it, and she had helped many women. She told me some of the stories about the jerks she took to court. Real scum bags. She wanted to update her office, furniture, computers, desk, paint, etc. She wanted a new office, classy and professional. She did a great job. But I had saved up about $300K between my dental office and her office. So she took $200K for her office. Then she tells me she wants to get plastic surgery….”

I knew where this was going. I kept silent and allowed Brad to continue.

“I thought it was strange that she didn't want me to go to the outpatient surgery with her. She wanted her best friend to take her. I didn’t mind shuffling my patients and rescheduling them. I wanted to be with her. I decided to surprise her by showing up in recovery after surgery with flowers. I thought she would be ecstatic. Instead, she was kind of sleepy from the anesthesia.”

“She sees me and says to me, ‘I didn't want you here; I knew that they would drug me up and I would tell you about my lover. I was planning to get these breast implants for him, I wanted to spend all our money on the office before filing for divorce.”

Brad's eyes were staring at me. They were red and tearful. I saw the pain he had endured, the lies and the deceit, He deserved better than this. “Joe, she was planning to divorce me, rob me, and run off with her lover.”

“I felt this tall in that room,” Brad raised his hand and held an inch of space between his forefinger and thumb. “The nurse’s mouth dropped, and her eyes were wide open. Her stupid friend was in on it and said nothing. Her friend never looked at me. She stared at the floor the whole time, I got up and threw the flowers at her feet. I wanted to kick and scream at her, but I left instead.” Brad took another gulp and finished his beer.

I felt sorry for Brad. First, he was duped ten years out of his life. All he ever dreamed of was playing catch with his son. Instead, he had a cold, heartless wife with a new rack and divorce papers waiting for him at home. It's true what they say about breast implants; the husband pays for them, but the other jerk plays with them.