Philip Weiss really wants to fuck tattooed 20-something waitresses. The problem is, he's married. He decided to write a several-thousand word story for New York full of anecdotal evidence, pseudo-science, and cautionary tales meant to explore why marriage has never quelled his desire for firm, unknown flesh. When I first read it I was furious — mostly because Weiss expects sympathy for his "condition." He begins the essay by saying 'When the Eliot Spitzer scandal broke in March, I had only sympathy for him: another middle-aged married guy tormented by his sexual needs. I'm 52 and have always struggled with the desire for sexual variety." He goes on to plead for a more open society, one in which it is not seen as morally suspect to have sex outside of marriage. And yeah, he says a lot of misogynistic things, including comparing all wives to Yoko Ono (which in addition to being sexist is soooo trite), but I couldn't even get that angry about it, because I was too depressed about the way he talks about marriage in general, and his marriage in particular.