Heal Those "Heels"

Are you there, readers? It's me, Mrs. Tittle-Tattle. It seems to be the Age of the Bad Boys. Ever since Tiger Woods became embroiled in a sex scandal, we've seen a parade of celebrity sex addicts/deviants making headline news with their naughty "peckerdillos" and "proclitivies"-yes, those misspellings are no accidents! Spitzer, Schwarzenegger, Edwards, Weiner-what is with those guys? In light of these sexual imbroglios, the phrase "My housekeeper really sucks!" is more likely to be said by the man of the house-with a huge grin on his face. Sex rehab is the new AA. Many women of a certain social set have been wondering if their own Masters of the Universe might have a similar problem.
     Let's take your average hedge fund multimillionaire. We'll call him Larry. Formerly a nebbishy guy who didn't get a lot of girls, Larry's newfound wealth makes him a chick magnet. Despite being married to a stunning, bright woman, he finds himself being drawn into thoughts of infidelity. He starts to spend a lot of time surfing porno sites. Then he begins an affair with the cute, young weekend babysitter, which ends when she finds an even wealthier hedge fund guy to marry her. Next, Larry goes after his son's speech therapist, an adorable young woman who rebuffs him. Larry begins to think, "Hmmm. I like hot girls, but maybe a woman who is not that hot would like me even more!" He starts chatting up the housekeeper, who is overweight but dresses provocatively. Next thing you know, Larry and the housekeeper are soiling the Pratesi sheets, while his wife is at Junior League meetings and the kids at soccer games.
     One day Larry's wife, Diane, finds a thong that's not hers. Larry confesses. Diane threatens to divorce him. She fires the housekeeper. Larry enters a sex addiction clinic. After one month of treatment, Larry returns home, sponsor in tow. The sponsor's name is Sean, and he hasn't had sex in over a year, so he's pretty cranky. Sean tells Larry that he can beat this thing-no, not that thing, the addiction. The program has arranged for the sponsor to live with Larry temporarily so that he can receive continuous treatment. Larry consents to wear a belt around his pelvis that sends a zap to the groin and an emergency signal to Sean's cell phone whenever Larry becomes aroused.
     During week one, Larry passes by the homely new housekeeper and feels only a tiny urge to do her. His daughter's attractive young tutor causes a familiar stirring in his loins. Sean's cell phone buzzes the tune "Addicted to Love," and he reminds Larry about his commitment to recovery. On day three, Sean and Larry are in the elevator when Mrs. Hoffman from Apt. 12A walks in. She is an elderly widow, but looks pretty good in a low-cut blouse. Suddenly Sean's cell phone goes off. "We're going back upstairs!" he orders. He forces Larry to take a cold shower. While in the shower, Larry fantasizes about the housekeeper who just cleaned it. He feels a jolt in his pelvis, and Sean knocks on the bathroom door.
     "Hey, what are you doing in there?" Sean yells.
     "Nothing!" Larry screams back. It's going to be a long road.
     By week two, Larry has almost mastered his sexual urges for all attractive women. He thinks only about ugly women now. After Larry goes online to order some tools for his East Hampton house, he engages in cybersex with a 300-pound woman who needs a shave. "This doesn't really count as sex, right?" he asks.
"Cybersex counts!" barks Sean.
     "But cybersex with a really disgusting woman is okay, right?"
     "No, man, that's even more screwed up!" says Sean as he pushes him into the shower.
     By week three, Larry no longer thinks about having sex with women. But during a performance of The Book of Mormon, he finds himself mesmerized by a perky chorus boy. At intermission, Sean douses him with a cold Pellegrino. Then at a dinner party, Larry starts getting that old tingly feeling as he caresses his friends' cat. "Animals don't count, do they?" he asks Sean, with a look of demented despair.
     "Dude, you are really sick!" Sean screams at him as he pours ice cubes down Larry's fly.
     Back at home, with no other options, Larry becomes strangely attracted to a bagel. "Inanimate objects don't count, right?" he plaintively asks as Sean's cell phone plays that old familiar tune.
     "You freak! I'm outta here!" Sean bellows at him. Disgusted with his protégé, Sean suddenly realizes that it's better to be a sex addict than a pervert who only wants to fornicate with food, so he grabs Diane and the two of them make wild, passionate love on the Stark carpet. Larry is left alone, with his arms wrapped around the hose of a Miele vacuum cleaner.
     So you see, guys? If you don't play nice, you could wind up cowering in a corner fondling a household item, and I don't mean your maid. Get thee to recovery! [HS]