Susan and Colleen were next.
You think one toothbrush encroaching on your bachelorhood is bad? Try surreptitiously dating two women at the same time when each one has a toothbrush at your place. Depending on who was coming over on a given night, I had to hide one toothbrush and replace it with the other. When you consider all of the deceptions you have to maintain in order to successfully shag two women at once, a minor detail like a toothbrush can slip you up.
Susan walked into my bathroom one evening. But instead of finding her green Aquafresh Flex-care, she found Colleen's pink Mentadent hanging in its place. She marched into the living room, pointing the toothbrush at me like a blood-stained butcher's knife and demanded: "Whose toothbrush is this? This isn't mine."
What could I do? What was there to say? I'd been caught pink-handled. No sense in making things worse by telling the truth about it.
"It's my brother's," I blurted out. "He's staying with me for a coupla days."
"Your brother uses a pink toothbrush?"
"That's not pink. It's mauve. And leave him alone he can't help being gay!"
"Your brother's gay?" she asked incredulously.
"Please, don't tell my mother. It'll kill her."
I've always maintained if you're going to lie, you should stick to one lie no matter what. I call this the O.J. Rule. If you get caught in a lie, lie harder. Never, never change your story.
Unfortunately, it only works for famous running backs. Susan wasn't stupid. She was one of the smartest people I've ever met. She didn't buy it for a minute. My romantic relationship with her ended shortly after that conversation.
With Susan out of the picture, I quickly tired of Colleen. Unlike Jen, Colleen was merely a random, voluptuous blonde I was banging on the sly. Without Susan's intellectual gifts to balance out Colleen's more primal talents, I quickly got bored and I sent her and her pink Mentadent packing.