I was sitting at my computer, not really paying much attention to the news in the background, when I heard something about another website being hacked. My ears perked up a little. It’s always good to know how many of my creditors are being hacked on any given day. This time the hackers had compiled a list of somebody’s customers and they followed through on their threat to post the names of the supposed guilty parties online. I have to admit, after hearing the name of the site, I was more than a little confused. I mean… I know America is struggling with, and to a large part losing the battle with obesity, but trying to shame people for going to the Dolly Madison website seemed a little obsessive to me. All I could think of was, “Their cupcakes for God’s sake!” Then the newscaster went on to talk about the list of “cheaters” and where they are from. “Really? Cheaters?” We have become so politically correct we’re publishing names of people who are cheating on their diets? I can’t begin to list the amount of times I have snuck a bowl of ice cream or a few cookies when my wife wasn’t looking. Every once in a while I get a little scolding from her, but I have to say, I would be more than a smidge offended if she labeled me as a cheater for having a bowl of ice cream.
As the story continued, the newswoman said the list of cheaters was broken down by country and state. In the US, Alabama had the most cheaters and people could go on the list to see if their spouses name was on it. Again, I mumbled. “Really? You need to read a list to know who cheats on their diets?” It seemed to me if your spouse was a hundred plus pounds over weight, they were probably cheating on their diet. On the other hand, if they were in perfect shape, what difference did it make if they were cheating. By now I’m uttering (a level of disgust higher than mumbling), “What kind of world blackmails people for going to a cupcake site?” Even worse than the knuckleheads who posted the list in the first place, the newswoman seemed to be sincerely enthralled in the story, as if the millions of fat people waddling around America was not a clear sign of how much junk food, cup cakes or otherwise, was being devoured every day.
I stopped writing whatever it was I was working on, and looked up at the TV screen and saw a picture of the website homepage. Needless to say, I was pretty surprised when I saw a sexy woman’s lipstick covered lips with her index finger pressed against them as if she were indicating that we should keep our little secret hidden. My confusion was growing by leaps and bounds. First, there was a list of cupcake eaters that somehow horrified a lot of people. And now I was looking at a homepage that resembled some sort of risqué hookup site. Not that I had ever been to Dolly Madison’s website, but I would have thought there would have been a picture of a cake or cupcakes or something along those lines. I looked at the picture a little closer and noticed it said, “Ashley Madison. Life is short. Have an affair.” Then it hit me. “Oooohh! Ashley Madison. Not Dolly Madison.”
Suddenly the world made sense again. Then I went to the kitchen and got a cookie out of the cupboard, relieved that I wouldn’t be on the evening news.