The Guinea Pig Diaries (24 page)

“I can see how that would be really annoying.”

She paused.

“Do
not
talk to me like you talk to the boys.”

Damn. She figured it out? Was I too obvious?

“Don’t talk to you like I talk to the boys?” I asked.

“The tone. It’s the tone you use with Jasper.”

“That must be frustrating.”

“Stop it!”

THE NEW BALL AND CHAIN

My friend suggested that since I’m letting Julie whip me in the metaphorical sense, I should let her whip me in the literal sense. I consider it. I even look at a website where you can hire a whipping tutor in leather thigh boots and a Teutonic hat. But I don’t do it. I think it’d be uncomfortable for everyone concerned.

But at the bottom of the website, I do find an interesting link. It’s for a product I’d never heard of till now: a chastity belt for men. It’s marketed at women who want to keep their man under lock and key.

Hmm. Julie just might enjoy that.

I click on it (which will no doubt result in some interesting spam in the future). The “Chastity Belt for Men CB-3000” comes in three varieties—clear plastic, imitation wood grain, or the new army camouflage version, for those who prefer their penises to blend into the surrounding foliage. It’s got rings and pins and
a small brass lock. It’s got a compartment for your johnson. It looks like a dirty version of Tinker Toys.

And it will save your marriage. Or so claim the effusive testimonials on the website.

A German man writes, “My feelings for my wife become more intense. I have to spoil and caress her even more.”

A Florida guy says, “It is so ironic that your product comes from Nevada—it is because of my antics in your state that I now find myself encased wearing a male chastity device. Now my wife lets me go to Vegas with a smile and the security of knowing that she is my key holder. This product is much more effective than the marriage counseling; a must for any open-minded couple who is dealing with issues of infidelity and rebuilding trust.”

Julie isn’t particularly concerned with me cheating. I know this because she seems to be immune from the emotion of jealousy. God knows I try to make her jealous. I invited four exgirlfriends to our wedding, and Julie didn’t bat an eye. I’ll tell her “Hey, look at this woman who asked to be my Facebook friend!” And I’ll show her a college co-ed who has photos of herself sticking out her studded tongue. “Good for you!” Julie will say.

She’s just enviably, wonderfully secure. She has better things to do with her time than be jealous of a hypothetical, never-gonna-happen fling. If I ever took action, well... I think she’d put on her Teutonic hat and thigh boots.

And yet, the CB-3000 seems perfect for Project Ideal Husband. Julie’s already got control of my schedule, my mind, my speech. Now she can control my private parts.

The CB-3000 arrives from Vegas a few days later in a small brown package. Julie’s out to dinner with friends, so I decide this would be a good time to try it on. Give Julie a pleasant surprise when she returns.

This is more difficult than it sounds. I study the instructions for three minutes, then spend twenty minutes stretching and shoving myself into various rings and tubes. It’s like assembling a complex model airplane, though this model airplane can pinch your sensitive regions and make you scream. Which happens three times.

I click the brass lock closed and tuck the key into the back pocket of my jeans.

I sit at my computer, adjusting and readjusting till Julie finally walks through the door. This is an unedited transcript of our conversation.

“What time did Jasper go to sleep?” she asks.

“Six-thirty. He was very tired.” I pause. “I got you a present.”

I hand her the small silver key.

“The key to your heart?” she asks.

“Better,” I say.

I drop my pants.

She looks down at the Rube Goldberg contraption on my groin.

“That looks painful,” she says. “So are you serious? He went down at six-thirty? Before the twins went to sleep?”

It doesn’t faze her at all. It is like I just showed her a new napkin holder.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I’ve come to expect this stuff.”

Huh. This could be trouble. Have I lost the ability to shock Julie? The bar is getting pretty high if a restraining device for the genitals doesn’t rattle her.

Julie does warm to the concept. Later that night, she dangles the key out the window, then pretends to drop it.

“Oops! Guess we’ll have to call the locksmith.”

Lying in bed, I tell her “I can’t sleep. It’s pinching.”

“I’ll let you free now—but only if you promise to put it on tomorrow.”

“So you like the CB-3000?”

“I like the power. So sue me.”

And I have to admit, the power suits her well.

CODA

This is Julie here. As part of being the obedient husband, A.J. asked if I would like to write the ending to get my point of view out there. Um, hell yeah! It’s about time I got to get in my two cents.

This has been A.J.’s best experiment in, well, ever. I would like to take this moment to thank the readers who came up with it (although I’m still angling for “The Year of Giving My Wife Foot Massages” as a follow-up). For the sake of America’s women, I hope this experiment starts a movement and other couples try it. Although if it does, I imagine A.J. will be hanged in effigy by the married men of America. Sorry, sweetie.

It really was one of the best months of our marriage, although I’m still annoyed that A.J. maneuvered to pick February to do this (and a nonleap year to boot!). Had he picked March, I could have gotten three more days of idol worship.

A.J.’s plan was that I’d eventually get bored of being in total charge and I’d be begging for his old self to come back. Guess what? That didn’t happen. Maybe it would happen someday, but it would take a long, long, long time. I mean, husbands were in charge for thousands of years, right? I could last that long. Do I need him to agree with me on every little opinion about, for
instance, movies or food? No. I like a spirited discussion. But do I enjoy having a yes-man when it comes to plans, wardrobe, and the household? Oh yes.

I do think that A.J. now appreciates me more. When I made the list of all the things I do, it was a revelation for him. For years, he seemed able to overlook the fact that if I weren’t around, no bills would get paid, no sinks would get unclogged, no Pirate’s Booty would get stocked.

I honestly believe he thought he was doing almost as much of the household management—that it was like 55/45 when in reality it was 80/20. I told him, it’s going to be hard to get back to his old 80/20 ways now that the imbalance is so clear.

The experiment officially ended a couple of weeks ago when I made him find all the missing pieces to the kids’ board games, which was a massive operation involving bookshelf-moving and rug-lifting. But even after deadline, he’s continued to be a diligent househusband. Yesterday he filled the liquid soap dispensers. A big gold star.

I’m assuming there is some backsliding to come. I’m hoping for a final ratio of 60/40. A girl can dream, no?

I do believe that the experiment was good for our marriage. It made A.J.—and me—realize that it’s not always about the big gesture. Marriage is an accumulation of the little gestures. The little gestures are the ones that count.

A.J. is right in that we got into a bad pattern of being sarcastic with each other. During this experiment, he was forced to say nice things. So then I said nice things. It was a vicious cycle of niceness!

I think we’ve kept some of that for now. I’d like to think that we’ve cut our sass by 35 percent on a good day. A.J. is always babbling on about how behavior shapes thoughts. It’s his big mantra. In this case, I think it worked.

And, while I have your attention, I would like to point out that A.J. mysteriously left out some stuff. For starters, he was doing this ideal-husband experiment just when he had to turn the book in to the publisher.

And sometimes he’d try to weasel out of chores by saying, “I’m sorry but I’m on a big deadline.” Um, excuse me, wasn’t that the point, buddy? You can’t prioritize anything over our marriage. That’s the whole friggin’ experiment!

At one point, he wanted me to come with him to a group marital therapy session for four hours on a Saturday. I reminded him that we had three children and we’d have to get a babysitter and Jasper would not be happy. He then suggested he go alone. He thought that would be a funny scene for the essay. Just him and all these couples. Uh, no.

He also asked if we could do a week where I follow everything
he
says—for contrast purposes. To which I replied, “I didn’t sign up for that.”

By the way, this is awesome. I am loving writing my point of view. I think I should suggest this for every experiment. It’s the least he can do for turning me into a character. I live my life with everything on the record. Sometimes I’ll say something, and I can see his eyes light up, and I’ll think, Okay, that’s going in the book.

In the past, he has given me censorship privileges but never annotations or rebuttals. With his first book,
The Know-It-All,
I nixed a couple of personal passages. Suffice it to say they were about my cycle. You’re welcome, America.

But in this book and
The Year of Living Biblically,
I didn’t change or delete anything (well, I did suggest changing the name of a friend in order to avoid a total confrontation—and, since A.J. hates confrontations, he was more than happy to oblige). It’s so weird because I think I’ve gotten used to having my private
life out there. Besides, the e-mails that A.J. gets from readers reminding him that I’m a saint make it all worth it.

And despite the headaches, I do love him. The man, after all, makes a decent chicken piccata.

POSTSCRIPT

         
Julie

Thank you very much. Though I am still aspiring that we reverse roles for a week, so that I can command you for an experiment, as discussed.

Love, AJ

P.S. This is Sunayana on behalf of A. J. Jacobs

All the events in this book are true. Some of the sequences have been rearranged, and, in certain cases, the names and identifying details have been changed. Naturally, whenever possible, I tried to be radically honest.

PUNCTUATION AND SPELLING HAVE BEEN MODERNIZED.

1. Every action done in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those that are present.

2. When in company, put not your hands to any part of the body not usually discovered.

3. Show nothing to your friend that may affright him.

4. In the presence of others, sing not to yourself with a humming voice, or drum with your fingers or feet.

5. If you cough, sneeze, sigh, or yawn, do it not loud but privately, and speak not in your yawning, but put your handkerchief or hand before your face and turn aside.

6. Sleep not when others speak, sit not when others stand, speak not when you should hold your peace, walk not on when others stop.

7. Put not off your clothes in the presence of others, nor go out of your chamber half dressed.

8. At play and at fire, it’s good manners to give place to the last comer, and affect not to speak louder than ordinary.

9. Spit not into the fire, nor stoop low before it; neither put your hands into the flames to warm them, nor set your feet upon the fire, especially if there be meat before it.

10. When you sit down, keep your feet firm and even, without putting one on the other or crossing them.

11. Shift not yourself in the sight of others, nor gnaw your nails.

12. Shake not the head, feet, or legs; roll not the eyes; lift not one eyebrow higher than the other, wry not the mouth, and bedew no man’s face with your spittle by approaching too near him when you speak.

13. Kill no vermin, or fleas, lice, ticks, etc., in the sight of others; if you see any filth or thick spittle put your foot dexterously upon it; if it be upon the clothes of your companions, put it off privately, and if it be upon your own clothes, return thanks to him who puts it off.

14. Turn not your back to others, especially in speaking; jog not the table or desk on which another reads or writes; lean not upon anyone.

15. Keep your nails clean and short, also your hands and teeth clean, yet without showing any great concern for them.

16. Do not puff up the cheeks, loll not out the tongue with the hands or beard, thrust out the lips or bite them, or keep the lips too open or too close.

17. Be no flatterer, neither play with any that delight not to be played withal.

18. Read no letter, books, or papers in company, but when there is a necessity for the doing of it, you must ask leave; come not near the books or writings of another so as to read them unless desired, or give your opinion of them unasked. Also look not nigh when another is writing a letter.

19. Let your countenance be pleasant but in serious matters somewhat grave.

20. The gestures of the body must be suited to the discourse you are upon.

21. Reproach none for the infirmities of nature, nor delight to put them that have in mind thereof.

22. Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another though he were your enemy.

23. When you see a crime punished, you may be inwardly pleased; but always show pity to the suffering offender.

24. Do not laugh too loud or too much at any public spectacle.

25. Superfluous compliments and all affectation of ceremonies are to be avoided, yet where due they are not to be neglected.

26. In putting off your hat to persons of distinction, as noblemen, justices, churchmen, etc., make a reverence, bowing more or less according to the custom of the better bred, and quality of the persons. Among your equals expect not always that they should
begin with you first, but to pull off the hat when there is no need is affectation. In the manner of saluting and resaluting in words, keep to the most usual custom.