Two o'clock on a Tuesday is not peak dildo-shopping hour in Park Slope, but the woman standing before me is on a mission. She's in her 40s, maybe: brown hair tied up in a ponytail; dressed somewhere between jogger-mom and Brooklyn casual; a nervous, energetic look in her eyes. She strides up to the counter where I, having just opened for another hopeful day of business, am still counting the till:
"I'm having an affair," she announces breathlessly.
"Congratulations?" I say to her.
"It's the best thing I've done for my marriage," she says.
-Broadly
