Cal: You have to watch that video

Dear The Tank,

I have a problem. This is serious, so don’t make jokes. A few weeks ago, my friend James didn’t show up for Monday Night Football with the guys. I called home at halftime and my wife didn’t answer. She’s usually reading a book, so she picks up right away. Then last week, same thing—James didn’t show up. I call home, and someone picks up, but there’s a sound like someone dropped the phone and then a man’s voice and a woman’s voice, and then it goes dead. So I call James’ cell, but he doesn’t pick up. I text both of them, and—funny—neither one writes back until like five to go in the fourth, and then both their messages come in at the same time.

James used to be married to Pamela, and my wife would always say Pammy was lucky. She told me some things Pammy said about their love life—Pammy and James’—and it was kind of crazy, but my wife alway smiled a lot about it. So I started to get jealous and worry about it. You can understand that, right? When I got home, I went through the house. I looked in the garbage, I checked the sheets, I looked all over the bathroom. I didn’t find anything. But my wife, she’s smart. I worried about it all week. She kept asking me why I was so quiet and what was up.

Tonight was Monday night again. I called James and he said he couldn’t make it again. He had to work late. Yeah, a government employee working at 9 at night? I was going sort of crazy, so I set up a webcam in the bedroom behind my old trophies and another one in the living room.

So now the game’s over. I’ve got the video files. But, I can’t make myself watch them. It would be so fucked up if it was what I think it was. I’d have to kill someone or something. I couldn’t take it. But now that the video is right there, not knowing is the only thing that might be worse.

I feel like I could ruin myself or save myself if I hit that button. What should I do?

—Cal in Manhasset

Dear Cal in Manhasset,

Of course you have to watch. The man who could resist what you face has not been born. It’s nature. Since Eve plucked the fruit with her shapely fingers, we have to know what we can know.

Do not fight nature, Cal. That’s a recipe for misery.

But let us think this through. What you fear is that you’ll find an image of your wife, heels high in the air, screaming in pleasure as old James bangs away. That’s what you think would ruin you. I think you should, instead, hope and pray that that’s exactly what you find. Nothing could be more perfect for you.

Let me explain. You’ve already started down the path of skulking mistrust and jealousy. You’re never going to feel sure of your wife’s fidelity again. Even if you watch the footage and it’s nothing but four hours of unruffled duvet, you’ll still worry that she met him somewhere else, or that they did it some other night, or that she really, deep down wants someone else. Every look of boredom from her will be a lashing. Every time she pronounces another man’s name, even that of a school board candidate, or a world leader in the news, you’ll be tortured with the thought that she wants him. Sure, maybe you could try years of therapy. That might or might not help. I suspect you will always think back and wonder, though, what was on that video?

On the other hand, say you hit play and your wife and James stagger into the frame wrapped in an embrace. Say they fall on the bed, and he puts his head between her legs, and she’s screaming and grabbing his hair hard and pulling him against her. It’s going to hurt for a moment, but you don’t have to suffer alone. Save that snippet of video, set up an account with one of the many adult video sharing companies, use a name like James999 and upload a picture of James as the avatar, upload the best few minutes. Then a few days later, send an email to your wife saying something like, “People keep sending me this link.”

Now you know she’s going to dump James right away. So that’s good. Maybe she’ll smash the windows of his car or torch his boat. That would be nice. We think it would be a bit much if she were to swing a nine iron into his groin or otherwise try to permanently disable his vital functions. But who are we to judge?

You’ll also know that she’s going to think everyone knows. She’s going to have to go through every day worrying and afraid.

Delete the account soon after that and no one will be able to trace it back to you.

Then you get to decide whether to forgive your wife or not, as if you had done no wrong. That’s a good position to be in. You can be benevolent and gracious. If you can’t stand her anymore, maybe you and Pammy can connect over stories of how James hurt you. Sounds kind of interesting, doesn’t it?

So, you see, the choice is really whether to get the perfect revenge or live in constant fear. Isn’t it obvious what to do now?

You’re welcome.

—The Tank

The Tank is inspired by Gracious Living Without Servants, the new novel by Wall Street Journal writer Brenda Cronin. Juliet, the heroine of that novel, makes all kinds of bad choices that end up making life way more interesting. Read the first chapter.