The men who cheat and the women who are fine with it?

It’s the classic fairy tale: Boy meets girl. Girl falls in love with boy. Boy pops the question. Girl gets pregnant. Girl gives birth at the precise moment boy is getting drunk AND picking up an 18-year-old bimbo across town. And they lived happily ever after!

Oh wait, I forgot. This isn’t a fairy tale, this actually happened.

I heard about this travesty while on a treadmill at the gym. My friend and I were running side by side as she went on about the douche bag guy in question, who also happened to be her best friend’s husband. He may have been in the room when his twin girls came into the world, but by the time those little angels finished their first breast feeding, he was on his way to the grand opening of the latest supper club du jour.

Didn’t matter that I had a direct source, I thought for sure this was one of those dating urban legends, until I saw him with my own eyes the very next night at a bar, doing shots of Patron with a waitress, his arm firmly around her waist, his face hovering over her neck. I would have sent over a round, on me, to toast his newest bundles of joy—born just 72 hours earlier—except I didn’t want to rock that boat (Translation: I didn’t want to get the crap kicked out of me).

But it was then that it dawned on me, that this was happening more and more. I can think of at least five guys who have been involved in not-so-secretive affairs, each one parading his paramour around town like she was the Stanley Cup. And a few times I had the misfortune of having ring-side seats:

There’s the time I went to a hockey game with a buddy of mine and his “secretary,” where I couldn’t help but notice their constant need to hold hands in between periods.

Another time when a friend of a friend had to leave a party early cause his girlfriend locked herself out of their home ( not to be confused with his wife, who lives in his other home ).

). And who could forget the time I saw my buddy’s cousin treating his whole family to an afternoon of bowling—at the same alley where his much younger mistress handed out the shoes. Strike!

Adultery used to be about secret hook-ups and coordinating sleazy motel rendezvous with the precision and secrecy of an Ocean’s 11-type heist. Now, they may as well bring a webcam with them and charge by the minute. And the even more peculiar part is that even though there are plenty of married women who are up to no good, they seem to know how to keep a lid on it.

Are we witnessing a new trend? Husbands cheating out in the open? And worse yet: If the whole city is in on it, why aren’t their wives out roaming the streets with machetes?

Is it denial? Are they conditioned to believe that men have to cheat because it’s in their DNA? Or is it that these husbands just haven’t been caught…yet. My friend has a theory (and claims she’s not alone on this) that this can all be summed up by the one unspoken rule that wives belonging to this club abide by:

“I don’t care what he does after, as long as he’s home to put my kids to bed every night.”

Translation: If you just pay the bills, keep a roof over my head, and give me a hand with raising the children, I’ll let you off the hook.

I’d normally brush off this head-scratching living arrangement, except that it seems to be creeping up a lot lately: Women who turn a blind eye to indiscretions for, what, the sake of family unity? I say “blind eye” because I continue to operate under the belief that they GOTTA KNOW at this point that something’s up, right? Anyone?

So you have to ask yourself: Just how many cheated wives are in on it, and are they a victim, or co-conspirator? And why the hell did they even get married? Things that make you go hmm…

Just when you thought adultery couldn’t get any messier. But it does make for a great read.