Someone arrived at my site recently by googling “Why do men marry?” And it reminded me of this story.
When I was 22 or 23 at the most I briefly had a coworker who was about my age and married, we’ll call her Becky. They were very serious Christians of some sort (well, of the sort that liked to discuss with me at length why Catholics are going to hell with all the rest of the non-Christians). You might wonder why I liked them, but I actually enjoy those kinds of discussions and (you’re probably not surprised to hear) it’s not every day you meet someone else who does too – I’m talking about people who relish the going back and forth of philosophical arguement without feeling particularly emotional about your or their point of view.
But mostly I was fascinated by these two people. Fascinated by what I thought was his complete cluelessness (which is not a word, but just be flexible here) and fascinated by the very fact that she was happy to be married to him.
One day I invited Becky and my friend/coworker [we’ll call her] Kay to go with me to see the musical, Cabaret. Becky brought her husband (we’ll call him Vic).
I should back up a minute and tell you that once Vic was trying to explain to me why it’s important for women to be submissive to their husbands and he said, “Well, let me explain it this way, Becky and I are equal, but I’m in charge.”
It also might be important that you know that one of them was a virgin when they married, and it wasn’t Becky.
So Cabaret opens and there are a bunch of women who are dancing in big dresses, which every now and then they pull over their heads to reveal their (GASP) pantaloons. And there was whispering between Vic and Becky and much hand-wringing and gnashing of teeth and I whispered, “Beck, are you ok?”
And, clearly distraught, she told me that Vic had to leave. They were leaving because (and I quote), “Vic already has so many issues with lust and he just doesn’t need to see something like this.”
(I have issues with lust too, but you know, it’s Cabaret for crying out loud.)
And they left – like one song into the show. Now as I said I was only 22-ish and had never even dated the same person for 10 whole months, let alone been married. So I consulted my friend Kay, who was engaged, certain that she must get what had just transpired.
She gave me a blank look. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“Your fiance doesn’t struggle when he sees singing women on a stage wearing pantaloons?” I asked.
“Uh – no. If he did, I’d re-think marrying him.”
“Well maybe that’s what happens to people when they get married?”
“God I hope not,” she said.
So, dumbfounded, we watched the rest of the play as we periodically furrowed our brows and shrugged in one another’s general direction. As we were driving home she screeched, “Now I get why those two got married – so he could have sex without being a sinner!”
So that’s my best guess, Googler. If that’s not it, then I have no idea why anybody marries anyone.