8. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR HUSBAND’S DOING?
TYPE:
The man who likes to use an appeal to reason to gain his ends. He is untrained, but possesses a certain native subtlety.
SUBJECT:
Small and thirty, overworked, with a face that has been prettier, but which could be much less pretty.
APPARATUS:
Excursion boat.
REMARKS:
This is a system which is based on the simplest and most atavistic of human emotions—jealousy. Reflection upon this fact may deter from its use a number of my students who would regard such an easy and impersonal victory as an affront to their pride and self-confidence as first-rate seducers. It is true that the success of the method is much more the result of the subject’s internal conflict than of any remarkable attributes on the part of the student. But it is up to the seducer to be there at the psychological moment to suggest action. It takes a large amount of tact and self-control to bring the situation to the point of this suggestion without arousing the suspicions of the subject. It is not too easy. Do not treat it with contempt.
WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR HUSBAND’S DOING?
It is night on the boat; the last evening of the See-America-First-Cruise; Excursion tickets good until August thirty-first; Send the wife and kiddies if you can’t go yourself. It is night and all the children have gone to bed, allowing a blessed quiet to creep from the darkness and shroud the boat in wistful romance. Two figures stand in the bow.
She: Well, home tomorrow.
You: Yes. (Sigh) Back to work.
She: I do hope it’ll be cooler. But there, it never does get any cooler until the middle of September or after, so what’s the use of hoping? I didn’t have any right running away from the house this time of the year.
You: Sure you did. When you first came on the boat I said to myself, “There’s a little woman that sure needs a rest.”
She: You did! I didn’t know I looked that bad. The doctor told me to take a rest, but land, he’s always telling me that.
You: No, I don’t mean you looked exactly bad; only sort of thin and pale.
She: (Pleased): Thin! Heavens, I didn’t know that I ever looked thin. But it isn’t any wonder I’m pale. Goodness knows I never get out of the house.
You: You know, that’s one thing I just can’t understand about men. The way they let their wives stay at home. Believe me, if I ever get married my wife is going to have the best of everything. And plenty of time to enjoy it, too.
She: Well, I certainly think your wife’ll be lucky. But you’ll probably have to wait a long time to be earning enough. I guess HE doesn’t have it any too easy himself, working all day in an office. Sometimes he comes home mighty tired.
You: Maybe, but don’t you believe he has it any near as bad as you do. I’ll never forget my poor old mother slaving day in and day out. You know what they say—“Man’s work is from sun to sun; it’s woman’s whole existence” or something like that. I tell you, I grew up to respect women, I did.
(There is a pause while you think about it.)
She (sighing): Well, I certainly like to hear a man talk like that sometimes. I just wish Joe could hear you.
You: Oh, he’d say I didn’t know anything about it, seeing as I’m not married.
She: I don’t know. Joe’s awful reasonable. It was because of him I took this trip. He saw the ad in the paper and he says “Mary, that’d be mighty good for you,” he says. And I says, “Yes, but how would you get along?” He says, “Oh, I’ll manage.” And now I know that when I look at that kitchen I’ll just sit down and cry. I do like a nice clean kitchen. He didn’t even want me to take the children.
You: Oh well, it’s no more than he ought to do. You’re a mighty nice little woman; I bet he ought to know it.
She: Aw!
You: I bet he don’t know how lucky he is. Married fellows never do. How long have you been married anyway?
She: That’s a personal question.
You: Is it? I’m sorry.
She: Don’t be silly. I’ve been married six years.
You: Gee, he must’ve married you out of high school.
She: Kidder! (She is pleased.) Well, I guess I did get married kind of young.
You: I’ll say you did.
She: I think it’s better that way, don’t you? Keeps kids out of mischief.
You: I don’t know. I almost got married, but—I always thought maybe I’d better see the world first.
She: Maybe the Right One didn’t come along for you.
You: I guess that was it. Just my luck to find her when—oh, well.
She: What were you going to say?
You: Wouldn’t it be too bad if she did come along and I was too late?
She: That’s always the way, I guess.
You: Yes, that’s always the way.
(Another silence.)
She: You’re awful romantic, aren’t you? I’d know right away you wasn’t a married man.
You: That’s funny. It’s just what I would have said about you.
She: You could tell right away I was married?
You: No, just the other way around. I said, “Well, here she is!”
She: Here who is?
You: And then I saw your wedding-ring.
She: You know I have a girl friend who always takes off her ring when she goes to a matinee. Joe says to me, “Mary if ever a wife of mine did that I’d give her a good hiding.”
You: Yeah? Honest, you’d be surprised at the number of married women there are that lead a fellow on.
She: Really?
You: You bet. You wouldn’t know any like that, of course; but the way they act there ought to be a law against it.
She: I always say if a woman isn’t happy with her husband she ought to come right out and say so and get divorced or else not show anybody the way she feels.
You: That’s the right way to look at it. Of course I guess men don’t make it too easy for you either. Now me, whenever I’m tempted I just think of my old mother.
She: It depends on the mother too.
You: Sure.
(A comfortable and agreeing silence, while the boat glides on through the darkness.)
You: It sure is nice to meet a woman who can talk about these things without any—any foolishness. Oh well. Tomorrow it’ll all be over.
She: Tomorrow.
(Sigh again and pat her hand on the rail, leaving your hand over hers when the patting is finished.)
You: Don’t you think people ought to be broadminded about some things?
She: I guess so. What things?
You: Oh, different things.
She: Sure.
(Emboldened, you put your arm around her. She starts away.)
She: No, don’t.
You: Why?
She: It’s wrong. You ought to be ashamed.
You: What’s wrong about it? We want to, don’t we?
She: Say, Joe would kill you if he could hear you.
You: He can’t hear me. Aw, be sensible.
She: I’m being sensible. You’re a nice fellow; now quit. I’m going in.
You: No, wait a minute. Just a minute. You’ve got me all wrong. We’ve been good friends, haven’t we?
She: Yes, we have. I didn’t know you were going to be like this.
You: Didn’t you?
She (blazing): No, I didn’t! And what’s more——
You: Now, don’t get mad. Don’t get mad.
She: What’s more, Joe would kill you! I told you he’d kill you.
You: There can’t be any harm in me putting my arm around you.
She: Sh-h-h!
(The captain passes them in the darkness, muttering “Nice evening, folks.” She is frightened, and as you put your arm around her again she does not object.)
You: What harm could there be in it?
She: I wish you’d——
You: Come on, put your face up.
(Kiss her.)
She (bursting into tears): I tell you Joe would kill you.
You: Say, kid, what makes you so sure?
She: What do you mean?
You: What do you think he’s doing while you’re away?
She: Joe? Why—why——
You: Oh, be sensible. What did he send you away for? What do you think men are anyway?
She (frightened): You’re wrong; you don’t know Joe.
You: Now listen. You know how easy it is to act this way.
She: No—I won’t listen to you.
You: I don’t guess he’s any different from the rest of us. You been married six years? Say! Don’t be dumb. Listen; didn’t that schoolmarm in your cabin get off today?
She: No, no.
You: Yes she did. I’m coming around to say good night.
She: But I don’t want you to.
You: I don’t think you know what you do want.
She: No, I’m going in.
You: We’ve got a lot to talk about.
She (uncertainly): I oughtn’t.
You: What’s wrong with it? Don’t be dumb.
She: Goodnight. I guess we better say goodbye too.
You: Not yet. Oh, have a little sense, will you? He don’t know any more about you than you know about him.
She: Stop talking like that.
You: Well, how about it?
She: Well——
You: Aw, go on.
She: Well——
You: This door locks, don’t it?