o Hello, Rod. Last night, after work, on the coach, I met your wife.
o Well, well, well. How did you know she was my wife?
o She said so. She, as a matter of fact, said her friend seating right behind me had told her who I was, and for some reasons asked her to talk to me.
o Why did she need to talk to you?
o Well, it was more than a talk; it was rather a consultation.
o Since when you have become a consultant? Anyway, what was the topic about? Was it a quick talk in the isle or else?
o Actually, it was a long talk. She changed her seat, of course, after obtaining permission from the passenger sitting next to me. When she sat down, she introduced herself as ex or rather separated wife of yours. I jolted in my seat.
o Now, I wonder if you're interested to continue this conversation.
o Well, of course, I am. And I don't mind if you stick to your gun. Promise!
o OK. Now that you've granted the go-ahead, I'd like to say she still loves you so much. However, she put all the blame on your mother, not you. She told me you two have been physically separated and waiting for a court order. Again, she was mad at your mother interfering in her life and blah-blah-blah.
o During the three hour drive, she monopolized the conversation. When she paused, I pounced and suggested that she needed some professional help. She retorted she had already seen a psychiatrist in vain. When she told me how lovingly she cooked for you and waited for you to come home for a late dinner, I sensed there must be a skeleton in the cupboard.
o Oh, my God. You damn eccentric devil!
o Well taken! If you are not ready to listen, stop me right now. So you want me to continue? I told her that you two have some sort of sexual problem. Right. She jolted in her seat as you did now. When she pressed me to continue, I said she'd better discuss it, at least, with a close friend. She rejected the idea outright. I said without a feed back I could not proceed. She volunteered to provide me with the feedback. Dammit, the poor girl needs immediate help. She is suffering from 'conversion reaction', the symptom of which varies with people, i.e. the way her legs, during intercourse, extend rigidly and close together like two stiff pillars. Dammit, she knows nothing about sex; her mother or a friend should have passed some words to her. You dammit didn't either, because you simply needed a view and a soft surface, good enough to reach your climax. Take your mother out of your life. Your wife knows nothing about sex. However, let it be so, 'impotent'. Go on with you life. You don't need a woman who widely opens up. You have nothing to insert, dammit.