Her friend Ellen warned Lindsey that marriage would change her. "Guys are such jerks," Ellen said. "They expect you to cook and clean, and they always act so stupid and macho."

Lindsey had just taken a slow drag of her cigarette and said, "Have you met Gerard?"

Lindsey loved being married. In the mornings she and Gerard would lie on bean bag chairs and watch cartoons. In the evenings Gerard would cook waffles and they'd eat on the back patio in their underwear. They'd chain smoke and prank call Steve until they literally fell on the ground laughing. Marriage fucking ruled.

They never did laundry, and their house would've been condemned within a month of them buying it, had Brian not bought them a housekeeping service as a wedding gift. Nina, the housekeeper the service assigned to them, was a middle-aged woman who screamed at them frequently about how disgusting they were. Eventually, every Tuesday at 2pm when Nina was due to arrive, Lindsey and Gerard hid in the bedroom closet and tried not to giggle as they heard Nina making their bed and muttering about the "pigs" she worked for.

One day when Gerard was off visiting Ray, Lindsey stayed outside the closet when Nina came over. "Don't yell at me," Lindsey said before Nina had even taken off her jacket. "I just want to ask if you could not put my stockings in with the regular wash, because it stretches them out." She winced and covered her eyes.

"I handwash your stockings," Nina said.

"Then why are they all stretched out?" Lindsey asked, her hands still over her face.

Nina just cursed under her breath and walked away.

Lindsey opened her eyes. Nina had left the laundry basket behind, and on top was one of her schoolgirl skirts, obviously rumpled, even though she hadn't been on tour in weeks, so who would –

"Oh," Lindsey said.

The next day, after cereal and Looney Tunes, Lindsey announced that she was going to visit Jimmy.

"For a long time," she said. "I'll be super late."

Gerard kissed her goodbye, and Lindsey walked to the diner on the corner. She had a cup of coffee, a rare event for her, since Gerard considered diner coffee beneath him, and would pretend to cry when she suggested they go there for breakfast. After polishing off the (admittedly sub-par) coffee, Lindsey practically skipped home. She unlocked the front door, took off her shoes, and went up the stairs as quietly as she could,

Gerard was standing in front of the full-length bedroom mirror wearing Lindsey's halter top, schoolgirl skirt, and fishnet stockings. She gasped, and Gerard turned, his face bright red. Lindsey's eyes filled with tears.

"Linds," he said. "I...I'm not gay."

Lindsey was nearly crying with joy. "This is even better!" she shouted, and she tackled him onto the bed.

A week later Ellen called, complaining about how her husband never helped around the house.

Lindsey sat on her patio, tuning her bass in a tank top and a pair of Gerard's boxer briefs. "Oh, tell me about it," she said. "Ever since I married Gerard, all my silk panties get stretched out."

Ellen was silent for a moment, then asked if she could come over for dinner.