My attorney, Hay[wood] B.S. Corpus, says I should plead " Diminshed Capacity " with regard to this crime against Real Men [ on the basis of 34 years of ' married bliss ' and the threat of castration from the good wife ] but I feel so dirty and ashamed I can't bring myself to accept any excuse other than I failed when put to the test... there I was in the local library conducting some research in one of the less trafficked tome aisles when I reached for a crucial ledger only to wrap my hand around that of another person rather than the selected volume.. It was a cliched moment out of some B grade film.. I quickly withdrew [ though not without noting the delicacy of the other's skin and smoothness of some rather elegant fingers ] and made some outrageously witty comment in apology which elicted a most welcome and delightfully melodious reply. I turned to stare into astonishing ice-blue eyes of the type not seen since Meg Foster swanned across forgettable TV and films. The woman before me offered moist Joliesque-pillow lips, in bright red, drawn back in a welcoming smile revealing toothpaste-ad white teeth. I dropped my eyes modestly and found them fixated on a equally unnerving decolletage of the Scarlett Johansen persuasion- real - rather than the Pam Aderson miracles of modern science [ not that there is anything wrong with that ]. I quickly returned to looking at her face which was framed by a luxurious cascade of auburn - nay - titian tresses [ a digression - perhaps this was my first inkling that I might be in trouble given the vocal and adamant warnings I have read from ARRSE professionals regarding those of the Gwar persuasion ]. After a moment of polite explanation as to my need for the book and the type of research I do, rather than be put off by such esoterica ' she indicated that she found it a fascinating field of study and was deeply interested in ' my profession '... We engaged in a bit of further talk which quickly showed my that she was well-versed, if not knowledgable on things military beyond the casual limits of ' groupies ' and we got into a quite stimulating exchange of opinions.. This topical discussion allowed me to avoid indicating that I was ' spousally encumbered ' [ I claim the Clinton precedent- Don't Ask/Don't Tell ]... Suffice it say, despite my advanced years, non-Fabio physique and noticably grey follicular topping -which she seemed to find ' distinguished in a scholar ' she offered the opportunity to continue our conversation/exploration of the history of warfare in a more comfortable setting - her place - over ' coffee '... I admit to a sudden conflict of emotions and had to resort to the lame [ but real ] excuse of a prior engagement that prevented me from taking up her invitation...She ' fully understood ' , given the spontenaity of the invitation , and left me her phone number with an ' open offer ' to continue the discussion at a more 'convenient ' time... I was left with a vibrant image of toned buttocks straining to stretch well tailored slacks as she retreated, not before she flashed one more scintillating smile over her shoulder... I quickly sought out a nearby armchair and slumped down in a bit of a sweat... I almost went looking for her after a few moments and -ahem - haven't disposed of the phone number - but.... Was I prudent? A total f**kwit Wussie? sensible in preserving my testicles for future use? Missing out of possibly a bang of earth shaking- maybe - cosmic proportions? stupidly falling into the hands of a Sharon Stone Ice Pick wielder? A loyal and wise husband of good morals? A total ass deserving of the emnity of the court with no hope of Hay BS Corpus getting me off with only a stern reprimand? and.. given the inducement - how many of you, otherwise involved in long-standing relationships, would have gone for it. and explored the possibilities dangled in the invitation and to hell with any fallout/consequences?