What's in the bowl?

After everyone left from the Stupid Bowl party that Hal and Debra had hosted that afternoon, Debra plopped herself on their ‘70s velour sofa and sighed like a mule. Gosh, she wished Hal would let her get rid of this tacky relic. No one kept these L-shaped sofas any longer.

She could hear Hal tapping away on his keyboard in the den nearby. These days all he did was sit in front of that damned computer of his, surfing the web for God knew only what, usually in his underwear and a baseball cap. Sometimes he didn’t have underwear at all, but then he always wore a t-shirt. He saved his naked time for when they had sex. Which was every Saturday afternoon at 4:30, an hour before she had a cosmo and he had a Michelob. Their weekly treat, sex and cocktails.

Whenever she asked him what he was looking at, he always gave excruciating detail: “stuff.” That’s all, nothing like the news, politics, movies, cars, just “stuff.” She wondered what he was looking at as she sat there, inspecting her finger nails. She’d have to go in for a manicure this week – she was due for another round of “Jungle Red.” But then she noticed the keys in the bowl with the large M on the ring.

They’d be Melinda’s keys. She picked them up and yelled out toward Hal, “Honey, I think Melinda forgot –“ and then she noticed those two odd keys. Funny, they were just like their own keys to their cottage in Half Moon Bay. She looked closer – yes, they were the exact same keys. Same black octagon with a gold fleur de lys icon in the middle. What was Melinda doing with their keys?

She walked ever so quietly into the den. Hal sat there, sure enough, in his underwear and that stupid baseball cap. And then she saw – Internet porn. That slut.