Tech Tramps

Screen Shot 2014-04-24 at 8.37.41 AMMy husband is cheating on me – again. Don’t waste any time feeling sad or worrying about me, I’m used to it. He prefers romancing the stylish, sleek, slender types and I’m none of those things and then there’s the fact that I’m human. You see my husband has a habit of falling in love with the latest, greatest technology.

In the 90’s he fooled around on me with a Blackberry. A decade later he had a passionate affair with an iPhone. Lord, that man was in love. I’m talking a head over heels kind of love that comes along once in a lifetime. He couldn’t stop touching the iPhone. Oh, the gentle caresses and looks of adoration he would bestow on it. If someone, just once in my life, would tenderly gaze at me the way my husband looked at that iPhone, I think I could die happy.

Then the unthinkable happened. He two-timed on his iPhone with an iPad. It was like I had sister wives. I really felt for the iPhone. My husband was dating, in essence, her younger, twice as big, sister. You just know that had to hurt. Sadly, alienation of affection is a constant when you’re married to someone always looking over their shoulder for the newest, hottest, tech rush. That’s why today I’m currently sharing my husband with a tacky tramp called the Fitbit.

Ugh. She’s always with him. Holding onto his wrist day and night. She’s clingy and full of information. Wooing him how far he’s walked, how many calories he’s burned, how much sleep he’s gotten. The oversharing is a little sickening. The worst is her incessant nagging disguised as positive affirmation. She makes happy sounds every time my husband hits one of his daily fitness goals. (What a suck up.) It’s killing me because they literally do everything together. The shower, the pool, you name it and there they are – the perfect couple.

In fact, it’s so crowded in my bed I’m beginning to wonder where I belong. Currently, we have what looks to be a five way going on. There’s me and then there’s my husband with the Fitbit hugging his wrist, while an iPad mini cuddles up on his chest and his iPhone is nestled in his left hand. It all just feels so dirty, like I’m in some sort of tech porn and I’m being made to watch salacious acts of data sharing.

Sometimes, I think I have only myself to blame for my husband’s wandering ardor. Even when we were dating I saw signs of this tech fetish. In the 80’s, before he became a “Mac Man” he had a filthy fling with a Kaypro computer. Oh, the things those two would do together with a floppy drive. I was young and naive, holding on to the fairy tale belief, that our love would always, in the end, triumph over technology. Wow, looking back I was kind of an idiot.

I guess I have no choice but to take the course of action I’ve relied on since the late 20th century – waiting it out. Just like with the third generation Apple computer, iPod, iPhone, iPad and now the Fitbit my husband sooner or later will grow weary of his tech trollops and come crawling back to me looking for some old school affection. He’ll briefly tire of remembering pass codes, buying apps, and searching for his collection of chargers or his Fitbit will malfunction and call him a fatty. I just hope, for his sake, when he’s ready to resume human interaction I haven’t entered into a monogamous relationship with my Kindle.