We went to Bertuccions or Bertallinos, or some expensive trendy Italian place where all the traders went. Robert said the waitress was smiling because she was used to seeing him with his wife. Robert smiled, too. Before we even ordered wine, a crusty old yen trader came up to our table and said to Robert, "This must be your wife," like he hadn't met Robert's wife five-hundred times.

Robert said, "No, this is my lover." The man walked away, and I imagined myself in a big house with a big kitchen where everything is organized and right where I need it and if life changes unexpectedly I buy something at Crate&Barrel to fix it.

We are presented to Robert. From his smile we infer a carelessly attitude that she might take for self-confidence. As she does nothing in all the text we suppose she is driven by Robert and probably approves how he manages their relationship. For her, he results in stability, someone to hold on to, a greater relief than eating. Nevertheless, we observe in his unworried manner that he does not denote the so-called intention of leaving his wife that she might be expecting, although she doesn't mention it. Crouched in the intervention of the old yen trader (“This must be your wife”) there are concepts related to infidelity, like the distinction between lover and wife and the social despise for the former (and, in a minor extent, to the man that cheats on his wife). This arbitrary character tries to make him feel uncomfortable by reminding him of the social customs towards this misconduct. Robert is fine with it, he is the boss in the relationship and probably in many other spheres.

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