Well, as a disclaimer, I was a horndog of some local note who was living in D.C. in the 80's. I was a bad boy. Typical 80's head-banging hedonist with the swagger and hair. I had no oar in the water, I just went with the current and feasted on whatever was off my bow. My family said I had probably dated and/or shacked up with the United Nations by the time I was 30. Marriage was not something high on my personal agenda; I'd shied away from three or four at that point. But I'd met what I thought was a nice Turkish girl in the mid 90's, I was at loose ends as far as commitment at the time, so we shacked up and got married. Brother, there are some women who go full-on Jeckyl and Hyde when they get that ring on your finger. And then her MOTHER (AKA Coitus Interruptus) moved in for what was a two-week stay that turned into almost a year. I'm not sleeping on my own sofa while my mother-in-law borrows my bed. I packed up my bags, had a network engineer buddy of mine from the Pentagon come over to help me vacate, and I was tail lights on the horizon. I spent months bed-hopping with every college girl and frustrated housewife that drifted downstream to me until I met the current missus. Overall, she got my head and my keister rewired together properly. That's the thumbnail of it; I'd require a couple gigabytes to write each chapter. I'm just old, tired and lucky I can even pee on my shoes at this point.
