Warning: Not for The Romantics.
I first heard this joke from a TV director acquaintance of mine. I still see his face, that of a man who could never be happy. This joke must be why.
I first heard this joke from a TV director acquaintance of mine. I still see his face, that of a man who could never be happy. This joke must be why.
A middle-aged husband and wife are sitting at the dining table after breakfast. He's immersed in the newspaper and she's crying silently. Noticing that he's paying her no attention she sniffs a little louder.
No Reaction.
So, she cries softly but audibly, slyly checking for a reaction occasionally. Again, no reaction. Frustrated, she starts bawling her eyes out. He turns the page and quizzically looks up:
"What's the matter, sweetie?"
...he says.
"Nothing..."
she replies. He says:
"Darling, I've know you for 34 years, 7 months...12 days...16 hours...and 48 minutes. Now come on, something's up."
"No, nothing!"
she repeats. He shrugs and starts to go back to his paper. Seeing that she hasn't got the reaction she wanted, she blurts out:
"Well..." she starts, as he benignly gives her his full attention..."It's just that you never say that you love me anymore."
He smiles to himself but tries to be serious and says:
"You're not happy?"
She looks pleadingly into his eyes and says:
"I just need to hear you say those words..."
He reaches up, strokes her cheek and brushes away a little tear, saying:
"...Darling, it all depends on your definition of 'Love'. If it means: You fat, stupid, ugly bitch, you ruined my life, then, yes, I do love you."
...and coldly goes back to his paper.
No Reaction.
So, she cries softly but audibly, slyly checking for a reaction occasionally. Again, no reaction. Frustrated, she starts bawling her eyes out. He turns the page and quizzically looks up:
"What's the matter, sweetie?"
...he says.
"Nothing..."
she replies. He says:
"Darling, I've know you for 34 years, 7 months...12 days...16 hours...and 48 minutes. Now come on, something's up."
"No, nothing!"
she repeats. He shrugs and starts to go back to his paper. Seeing that she hasn't got the reaction she wanted, she blurts out:
"Well..." she starts, as he benignly gives her his full attention..."It's just that you never say that you love me anymore."
He smiles to himself but tries to be serious and says:
"You're not happy?"
She looks pleadingly into his eyes and says:
"I just need to hear you say those words..."
He reaches up, strokes her cheek and brushes away a little tear, saying:
"...Darling, it all depends on your definition of 'Love'. If it means: You fat, stupid, ugly bitch, you ruined my life, then, yes, I do love you."
...and coldly goes back to his paper.
0 comments:
Post a Comment