Another Life
The sleazebag shakes the wife’s hand, and it looks as if her hand kind of lingers in his. Then the sleazebag leaves...
"Another life," the husband thinks, trapped in a hotel room with a howling door and Rousseau's "Origin of Inequality." "I want another life!" Then he rolls off the bed, spits out his toothpaste, and runs to ask the bartender—April P., according to the receipt—if she'll have a drink with him.