So, a funny thing happened Friday night.
As I wrote in my last entry, I went to dinner with three friends Friday, to celebrate one’s birthday. The prettier half of the married couple, actually, L. To make things easier, I ran by their apartment and rode with them to A’s apartment. As per usual, I snuck past the security gate behind someone else and popped up to their apartment to visit for a moment before we left to gather up our last gustatory adventurer.
We walked down to their car and I went around to the rear passenger-side door via the back of the car. I watched with growing horror as the couple parted, J going to the driver’s seat and L going, by herself, to the front passenger side door. She opened her door and let herself in. I sat down behind her.
“So, you guys have been married for a long time now, haven’t you?” I asked, knowing that it had been less than a year.
“What do you mean?” J asked me as his wife started to laugh. “What?”
“I think he was asking why you didn’t open the door for me.”
That scene repeated several times before J was finally shamed into opening his wife’s door for her.
You try to raise them right, but these kids today…
Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Brigands demand your money or your life; women require both."
--Samuel Butler
