My co-workers and I were just musing about Frenchmen, and I announced that I am going to take a French lover. On the spot I decided that he would be married. To which Camille responded, “oh Ryan, that’s tacky.”
And I laughed. Because of all the reasons I may decide against having an (hypothetical) affair with a married man, the tacky factor would probably carry the most weight. Forget morals or scruples or a sense of right and wrong, I just wouldn’t want to be tacky.
(bear in mind, that, as I write this, my hair is pulled back and secured with a BINDER CLIP)
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