Has Anyone Seen My Pants? by Sarah Colonna

life was being maintained via text, so I guessthe one I’d formed with Alex didn’t seem that weird to me. He was smart, funny, and interesting. And he felt the same way about me.
    Although I was incredibly grateful that my career was finally growing into what I’d always dreamed it would be, I was traveling all the time, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to feel the void of not having some romance in my life. I’d come home from a weekend on the road to unwind and find myself having one too many drinks on my balcony and staring at my cat. In short, I was pretty fucking lonely.
    I lay in bed that night, phone in hand, trying to figure out the best way to get the answer to what seemed like such a simple question. I didn’t want Alex to turn out to be an asshole. I’d worked so hard to not date assholes, to not settle. And if I was going to hang out with an asshole, it needed to be for sex and a good story, like with Baseball Player. Alex’s turning out to be married wasn’t a good story, especially since I actually liked him.
    I woke up the next morning, my phone on the floor next to me. I guess I’d overthought myself to sleep. When I picked it up, there was a text from Alex waiting for me.
    “I’m going to be in Seattle next weekend for work. Meet me there? I have the whole day and night free on Saturday.”
    Seattle made me think of those stupid sunflowers I’d sent Baseball Player and I made a mental note to unsubscribe from 1800Flowers.com again. Seriously, I was still getting e-mails from them.
    “Actually, I’m free next weekend,” I replied. “Sounds fun.”
    I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t I say, “Sure, I’ll be there, as long as you don’t have a wife, LOL!”? But I wasn’t ready to ask him yet. I wanted to spend one day fantasizing about a romantic weekend in Seattle. I’d ask him tomorrow.
    Three days later, I still hadn’t asked Alex the big question. I booked my hotel, I booked my plane ticket, and I bought a new outfit (but I didn’t book any body wraps, so that’s progress). I was forging ahead with the idea that the man who was constantly texting me and had asked me on more than one occasion to meet him in other cities was single, as presented. But I couldn’t get the image of that photo stupid Google shoved in my face out of my head. So I decided it was time to find out.
    “Oh, hey, I was thinking: I’m performing here in L.A. next month, you should come down for it. I can put you and your wife on the list.”
    I know that sounds like a very strange way to ask, but it was all I could come up with. I figured if he wasn’t married, he’d say, “Wife? I don’t have a wife! I’m divorced!” Then I could say, “I know, I was just joking! Ha ha.” And if he was married, he certainly wasn’t going to ask me how I found out. (Look, I never claimed to have a degree in logic.)
    “Sounds good,” he responded.
    My stomach sank. I was four days away from meeting this man in Seattle and he had just confirmed, via text, that he was married. And not only did he not ask me how I figured it out, he didn’t even address it. Did he just assume that Iknew all along? And if so, why? I stared at his text for like forty minutes, completely stumped as to how to respond to it, or if I should even respond at all. I mean, I guess I had my answer. Didn’t I?
    I came up with various scenarios in my head: He might be separated. But that didn’t make sense because if he was, he probably would have said, “I’m separated,” instead of, “Sounds good.” He might be in a green card marriage, but that didn’t make sense because if he was, he probably would have said, “I am married, but I just did it to help out a friend in need of a green card,” instead of, “Sounds good.” He might be a widower, but that didn’t make sense because if he was, he probably would have said, “I’ll just need one ticket to your show since my wife is dead,” instead of, “Sounds