in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face
that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for”
“Uh…I don’t know. I mean, no. Sorry. It starts at 9:00. “Patricia quickly stepped backward into the library and let the heavy door swing closed slowly. Why was she so nervous about answering a simple question? She wondered if she should see a therapist.
“Yes. Very busy,” replied Patricia as she looked at the floor.
“Anyway, a few of us are going to the new Mexican place on Smith Road for lunch. I think it’s called Juan’s. Would you like to go with us?”
“No, thank you. I have plans for lunch today.”
“Plans? Wow. That’s great. Good for you, Patricia. Have a great time and I’ll see you later. Maybe we’ll have lunch another day.”
Patricia wondered if Lilly thought that Patricia had a date for lunch. She felt a bit guilty for being inadvertently misleading, but she really did have plans for lunch–the same plans she had every day: Tuna fish, potato chips, two dill pickles and a large iced tea at Murphy’s Deli down the street.
“That’s fine. I mean, if that’s all you have available.” And then, as she followed Seth to her booth, she mumbled under her breath, “My name is Patricia.”
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” He replied quickly.
She slid into the booth and indicated to Seth that she didn’t need a menu. He smiled, poured her a glass of water and motioned to the waitress. She came right over and said “Hi sweetie. Tuna salad on toasted wheat, chips, two dill pickles and iced tea. Right? Anything else today?”
“No, that’s all. Thank you Sandy.”
As she waited for her lunch, she looked around the small deli and was quite relieved that she had gotten this last booth. She’d been eating lunch at Murphy’s for almost three years, and she couldn’t imagine eating anywhere else. Even just the thought of it made her nervous.
Next morning as Patricia opened her eyes, her clock read 6:02. I need a therapist, she decided.
“It’s your hour…”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Why don’t you start with your name?”
“You know my name.”
“Pretend I don’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My name is Patricia Stevens.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a librarian; assistant librarian.”
“Do you like it?”
“I’ve been doing it for ten years.”
“Do you like it?”
“Maybe assistant librarian is an exaggeration. I restock the shelves when the books get returned and, of course, I find a place for the new arrivals; new books.”
“Do you like what you do?”
“It pays the bills. You know, ya got to keep a roof over your head.”
“Single. It’s just me and, of course, Snow.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m sad. A lot. Don’t know why.”
“Have you had a checkup recently?”
“Yes. I’m okay…physically. Dr. Greenberg is the one who recommended you.”
“Of course you know. I’m sorry. Don’t mean to waste your time.”
“It’s fine. Let me put it to you like this: Why do you think you’re sad?”
“I don’t know. I have a job, my own apartment (I sublease), and a kitty who loves me.”
“How old is your cat?”
“What difference does that make?”
“It’s just a question. That’s what I do. I ask questions. How old is your cat?”
“If you had one wish, what would you wish for?”
“I don’t know. That’s a tough question.”
“Wishing is a tough question?”
“I would need time to think about it. I haven’t wished in a long time.”
“When was the last time you were happy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where do you want to be in five years?”
“I don’t know. Where do you want to be in five years?”
“I’m the one asking the questions.”
“It’s okay. Look, in less than a couple of minutes, sum up your life for me.”
“I told you, it’s me and Snow. I go to work 8:00 to 5:00 Monday through Friday and 9:00 to 3:00 on Saturdays. I like to read and sometimes go to the movies.”
“That took you less than ten seconds.”
“What do you want from me?! I told you, I’m sad! I don’t know why! I do the same thing over and over—day in and day out! I can’t tell one day from the next! I don’t know where I want to be in five years! I don’t know what to wish for! Is there some Fairy around here granting wishes?! ‘Cause if there is, I’ll get in line! I’m here for you to fix me! I’m here to be happy again, even if I don’t know when I last was! That’s what I’m paying you for!”
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“When was the last time you did something new?”
“I don’t know; changed your hair, bought a new dress, drove a different way to work, talked to someone in an elevator…”
“I don’t do elevators.”
“Right. I’ll mark that down. We’ll deal with that later. When was the last time you did something new?”
“Are you telling me that I’m paying $150 an hour to have you recommend I buy a new dress!?”
“I’m sorry. Your time is up.”
“What?! I just got here! Where are my pearls of wisdom?!”
“Fine. When growth stops, decay begins.”
“What is that supposed to mean?!”
“Everyday that you decide to do the same thing over and over; everyday that you decide to play back your yesterdays; you stop growing. You want to know why you’re sad? I’ll tell you. You’re sad because, at some point in your life, you stopped taking chances. At some point in your life, you threw in the towel. I didn’t throw in that towel—Snow didn’t throw in that towel—you did. Every time you settle—every time you decide to ‘sit this one out,’ you decay a little bit more. You don’t want to be sad any more? Then do something about it. Sadness—loneliness—it’s a decision. I asked you when you first got here, over and over, if you liked what you do. You never gave me a straight answer.
and was buried along with her name Nobody came
Father McKenzie, wiping the dirt
from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved”
1. Put so much makeup on, that your skin can’t breathe and your face breaks out:
Then, when it does breakout, you put on concealer and twice as much makeup to cover it up! That makes no sense! The makeup caused the problem, so let’s put more on? There is nothing more beautiful than a woman who has just washed her face and radiates a fresh, clean scent!2. Long fake nails that snap off during sex and lay hidden in the carpet, like thumbtacks, ready to take us out at 3:00 A.M. when we are on our way to the bathroom:
Why am I screaming and waking your ass up in the middle of the night? ‘Cause I got a three-inch splinter jammed under my big right toe and as I jumped around in pain, I ran into the dresser! When a man sees a woman with three inch long fingernails, there is only one thing that goes through his mind: “There goes one lazy chick!” Ain’t nothing good a woman can do in this world with giant claw-like nails except maybe scratch your back!3. Butt crack jeans:
I know I’m going to take a lot of heat from my brothers-in-arms on this one ’cause there is nothing in this world a man appreciates more than a nice butt crack on a beautiful girl. But, the people selling butt crack jeans aren’t checking what kind of butt is going in these jeans! A little butt crack is one thing, the Grand Canyon is another! Ladies you don’t need to moon us in order to get us to love you. The goal is to “catch and keep,” and not “catch and release.”4. T-backs:
Commonly referred to as “THONGS.” My God! How uncomfortable must they be?! I’ve been on the receiving end of a wedgy or two when I was young and I can tell you, I didn’t like it! Why would anybody sign up for this? Panty lines? Who cares?! The little fellas that I really feel sorry for are the little dust mites that are on the dental floss before they go deep, deep, deep under cover! There can’t be a dust mite alive at the end of a long, hot day when that thong finally hits the hamper! Ladies look: a nice ass is a nice ass is a nice ass! Panty lines, no panty lines, an attractive backside will be noticed if that is your goal. But seriously, do you really want us talking to you and making eye contact or craning our necks to see some junk in the trunk?5. Footwear:
I don’t understand the idea of putting anything on your feet that is uncomfortable — pumps, spike heels, platforms, anything! If God wanted you to be taller he would have made you taller. Walking around on your toes all day hurting your feet for a few inches is ridiculous. You want to fix something, fix your posture! I’d rather eye ball a short girl in flats with good posture than a short girl in pumps with a humpback looking for a bell to ring. I like Jada Pinkett- Smith (wife of Will Smith). She is short but walks tall! Real men see high heel shoes as lack of confidence or someone they could blow a C note on for a good time! Stop throwing tons of money away on shoes that hurt your feet. If you stop buying them, they’ll stop making them.6. Push-up Bras:
Most men aren’t Isaac Newton but we know about gravity and we know that breasts don’t magically point and lift themselves up towards the sky! Why would you lift and separate and then throw over them a low cut blouse for the world to see? They call the device that makes small breasts look bigger the “wonder bra.” What wonder? It’s a mirage! It’s false advertising! When the bra comes off, everything goes back to where it was! No mystery here! More of a disappointment! Even if you lure us in by raising and squeezing your breasts together, no man wants to stop there! There isn’t a victory dance till’ the bra comes off; then your gig is up! You might as well stuff your bra with Kleenex or those little spongy filet cutlets! If you’re going to lie about a couple of boobs then what can we believe? Why do women with small breasts want to look big and women with large breasts want to look small? That is one thing I like about runway models; whatever they got, big or small (and they are mostly small) they are proud of them! I may not know the secrets to the universe but I can tell you that if you hate even one part of your body, that hate will eat you up like a cancer ’till that’s all you see. Love what you call your “imperfections” because they look perfect to us.7. Fake Breasts:
I can’t leave out breast implants. WOMEN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY WOULD YOU GO UNDER ANY ELECTIVE SURGERY THAT COULD JEOPARDIZE YOUR LIFE? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS SURGERY IF YOU KNEW THERE WAS A 25% to 50% CHANCE THAT WITHIN 5 YEARS YOU WOULD REQUIRE CORRECTIVE SURGERY? FOR US? We’re not worth it! Any man that loves a woman MORE because she has fake breasts is an idiot! For yourself? Are you saying God made a mistake with you that needs fixing. This is crazier than all the previous six combined, changing yourself based on society’s perception of beauty? And when I say society I’m referring to all the marketing companies on Madison Avenue who want to make a quick buck at your expense by telling you how beautiful you could be! This one is real simple: Ladies, don’t let anybody cut into your body unless your life depends on it. If everyone around you tells you that they don’t like you the way you are, then you need new friends not new breasts!8. All other Cosmetic surgery:
Botox, facelift, butt lift, tummy tuck, liposuction, etc. AGAIN: Don’t let anyone cut into your body unless your life depends on it. If I have to explain how stupid it is injecting a botulinum toxin that paralyzes your face, then you can stop reading now! I got nothing else to say! Wrinkles? Since when are wrinkles something to be ashamed of? When I see wrinkles I see fortitude, wisdom, beauty, sophistication, grace, elegance, intelligence. Old you say? What’s wrong with old? Ponder the alternative. If you see wrinkles as anything other than beauty you need to get your eyes checked. Face lift, butt lift, liposuction? I’ll say this once more: celebrate your imperfections, don’t try to fix them! They are what make you look unique! Do you really want to look like everyone else?9-10. Body Piercing and Tattoos:
According to New York University, psychology professor Paul Vitz (as is argued in his book “Psychology as Religion”) “Cosmetic mutilation has now been able to enter the mainstream culture only because of the revival of paganism and the eclipse of the Judeo-Christian ethic.” Hmm….well, I think that’s a stretch. But I do agree with his use of the term “Cosmetic Mutilation.” To punch holes and scar your body seems like the ultimate crazy act (besides suicide) to draw attention. Think about what this person is saying by their actions: “What I have to say, think, or do on its own merits isn’t enough to get you to notice, like, love, care for, or be with me, so I have to destroy and cover up my own skin.” People who have to apply meaning to themselves by putting artwork or symbols permanently on their skin can’t like themselves very much, if at all. Of course there are people that tell me it is an act of self-expression; a reuniting of the mind and body that has split; that a tattoo or piercing is a redefining of the self from the group so individualism or uniqueness can be created. Look, last time I checked we were all born unique. Unless you are an identical twin, there isn’t anyone else like you. To put on the same tattoos that other people have seems like a way to be more like someone else than it does about being unique. If anything, tattoos and piercing’s are a way to be more accepted for the person who feels alone. By getting a piercing or tattoo they can be a part of a club or a group of people that have done the same thing so that they can be accepted. Piercing’s and tattoos are more a cry for help than they are individualism. It is much harder knowing and learning who you are than taking the easy way out and changing your “book cover” so someone will automatically like you. Even something as common as diamond earrings is just a way to receive compliments. Think about it. Earrings are the only type of jewelry that can’t be seen or appreciated by the owner unless they look in a mirror or get a compliment.
- Only 13% of women are very satisfied with their body weight and shape
- Only 2% of women around the world consider themselves beautiful
- More than half of all women say their bodies disgust them.
As Mark slowly forced himself to take step after step toward the big double wooden doors of the church, he felt as if he were sleepwalking; like he was out of his own body, looking down at himself. The first person he saw upon entering the vestibule of the church, the church that Samantha had attended her whole life, was Samantha’s Father. “Steve…I…..I mean…Mr. McCoy…Let me explain…I never meant to…it’s all a big misunderstanding…Can I please see Sam?”
“She doesn’t want to see you, Mark. And I recommend that you turn around and walk out of this church right now. I don’t know how much longer I can contain my anger. I don’t want to deck you in front of your family or mine. And, God help me, I want to hurt you.”
“Fine! Swing away. I deserve it. But I need to see Sam. I won’t leave until you let me talk to her!” He felt his emotions getting the better of him, and he prayed that he would be able to keep from being the one doing the swinging.
“Mark, son.” Finally, a comforting voice from behind him. “Let Samantha have some time to herself. You don’t need to figure this all out right now. She needs some time.”
“No, Dad! I need to see her. I have to make her understand. Just tell me where she is! Where the hell is she?!”
“I don’t know, son. But you need to let her be. Come on; let’s go find your Mother. She’s very upset and wants to know what’s going on. I think she should hear it from you.”
“I’m sorry that Mom is upset, but I have bigger worries right now, Dad! I’m not leaving until I see her! Mr. McCoy, you have to…”
Steve McCoy, the dedicated father of Samantha and her younger sister, interrupted quietly, “You don’t understand, Mark. She’s already gone. Her Mother put her in the limo and they left. I don’t know where they went, and I won’t tell you when I find out. You created this mess. You broke my daughter’s heart, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to you tell me what I have to do. The only thing I have to do right now is figure out how in the world I’m ever going to help my daughter get past this. Now get the hell out.” He reached into his pocket and as his closed hand emerged, it seemed to be coming toward Mark in slow motion. He knew what was being handed to him. In that second he was suddenly back in the office of his jeweler, looking for the first time at the 1.5 carat, classic solitaire that he’d spent four months picking out. The ring that was supposed to be forever remembered as the symbol of their engagement, their beginning, was now being returned to him by an angry man, on a rainy day. Not a beginning, an end.
“I believe this belongs to you,” he said, as he dropped the ring into Mark’s palm and turned to walk away.
Mark was in a trance, staring down at the ring in his hand, when he was brought back to reality by the screechy voice of his Mother’s nosy friend, Cynthia. She was coming out of the church to where Mark and his Father were standing. The guests were getting restless and curious, and it sounded as if Cynthia had offered to get to the bottom of it. Her footsteps grew louder on the other side of the door.
“I’ll be right back. I’m sure everything’s fine. Maybe somebody forgot the rings at the house or something. I think I saw Samantha’s Father come this way.”
The mumbling of the 200 people on the other side of the door was suddenly deafening. He thought his head might explode from the thought of facing anyone in that church. He had to get out of there. He looked at his Father, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t try to talk him into staying and talking to anyone. He probably should stay and talk to the Minister. He probably should stay and talk to his Grandparents who drove hours to get here. He probably should stay and talk to his sister and her six year old daughter who missed her best friend’s birthday party to be here. He probably should go find his Mother…..his Mother…he almost couldn’t bear to think of the pain he’d caused.
His Father understood by looking at his son’s face. He always could. He steered Mark out of the door and toward the parking lot. He would drive him home, and they could face the world later.
“No, Dad,” Mark said quietly as his Father unlocked the door to his Cadillac. “I want to walk. I’ll see you at home in a while. I need to be alone.”
Mark walked the 11 blocks without ever lifting his eyes from the sidewalk.
Las Vegas has a motto: “What happens here, stays here.” Well, let me tell you something, that’s not reality…not in Vegas, not on a guy’s weekend fishing trip, not on guy’s night out in Anytown, USA. Who you are is not something that can be put on hold. There are no time-outs in life where the game clock stops and whatever you do is no longer part of the game for recorded history. There are always consequences to your actions.
What did Mark do? Maybe it was something as simple as having a bachelor party when he said he wouldn’t. Maybe it was one more oat that needed sowing—it could have been a million different things, but the moral is the same. In each of us lies a line we know we shouldn’t cross, a line where we become someone we aren’t. Where is it? It’s different for each one of us, but each one of us has it. The tale I just told is a fictitious one, but it could have just as easily been true. Want to have a bachelor party? Go ahead. But don’t let anyone force you to cross that line. Don’t let this story become your story.
In 1988, 200 newlywed brides were carefully selected to participate in a clinical study. To participate they had to have never been married and received a newly purchased engagement ring during their prenuptials. There were 68 participants ages 19-29, 66 participants age 30-39 and 66 participants ages 40-49. In each age group there were approximately the same numbers of Whites, African-Americans, Asian-Pacific Islanders and Hispanics. Each group also was purposely compiled having the same number of people with certain educational attainments. (Less than high school, high school graduate, some college, bachelors degree and more).
The participants were all asked the following question:
Unbeknown to the participants, the study was not designed to study behavioral patterns in size preferences, but to track marital success rates. Interestingly enough, no correlation could be found on the way the question was answered due to any particular age, ethnicity or educational background. Just as many in each group was on either side of the fence on the question. Those in the 54% group had the same mantra, “No one’s taking my diamond! This diamond is priceless! I don’t care if you got a 10ct diamond in your hand to give me, it can’t replace the sentimental attachment this diamond has to me. I know it’s not perfect or the biggest rock on the block but its mine. My symbol! My love! My eternal love! I can tell you to the last detail everything about the day I received it. What my man said, where we were, what song was on the radio and the first person we told. Nope, I’m sorry if the deal that’s on the table is I only get the new one by giving up old faithful you can forget about it. Now if you’re saying I can keep my old diamond and introduce it to a new friend well, now, maybe we can talk. My diamond has said to me a couple of times it gets lonely.”
The 46 % group was pretty adamant on their side too! “Are you kidding?! Where’s the recycle bin?! If bigger and better comes along, you take it! Look, you don’t keep the first house you ever get. If I want a memory, I’ll take a picture! Where’s my new ring?”
Not being a clinical psychiatrist myself I was curious what predictions a top, board-certified psychiatrist might have as to which group (the 54% romantics, the 46% materialistics) would have a better chance at happily ever after wedded bliss. Dr. Frank Montalvo M.D. Ph.D. predicted that after 15 years the materialistic group would be pummeled with divorce. Prediction: 15-18% would still be around to celebrate another anniversary and 82-85% would have already been through divorce court.
Prediction: The romantic group would stave off divorce far better. His prediction was that approximately 80% would still be together with 20% having left for greener pastures.
Five Year Mark
At the five year mark it appears that the doctor is barking up the wrong tree. The romantic group has suffered approximately a 10% divorce rate and the materialistic group a 9.8% divorce rate. At this point there appears to be no discernible differences between the groups. The materialistic group is not on course to do any better or worse based on their numbers.
Ten Year Mark
By the ten year mark something unexpected happened. The romantics’ divorce rate had slowed down and the materialistics had raced forward. Fifty-two percent of those that would trade in were now divorced and 16% of the romantics, were divorced. While there had been a 60% increase of the romantics to divorce the materialistics numbers had increased five fold!
Fifteen Year Mark
When the final numbers came in I was dumfounded, and in awe of Doctor Montalvo’s remarkable, almost psychic ability to nail his predictions. Eighty one percent of the group that said they would gladly upgrade were now divorced while their apparently overly romantic counterparts enjoyed a 78% martial success rate! The only question that I had now was why? “The answer is quite simple,” said Dr. Frank Montalvo. “There are a great many of us, to put it bluntly that don’t like ourselves. They use the trappings of success as a cloak to disguise this disdain that they have to try to make themselves feel better. Selfishness is another reason. People that are always asking what’s in it for me with little regard for others, tend to make a poor mate.”
Finally, we have found that if a person is hard-wired to up-grade their ring for a bigger and better one; their car for a bigger and better one; their house for a bigger and better one; it is not too much of a reach to see that if a bigger or better mate comes along they won’t think twice about trading him or her in either!
Interestingly, as the years went by each of the participants were asked if they would reconsider their original decision. By the 15th year 79.1% of the romantics who said they would never consider trading in their original diamond had actually now reconsidered. While their emotional attachment towards their original rock was still quite high, they felt that it no longer represented who they were now. Many of them opted for new mountings (platinum settings) and others traded in the whole thing. (Half of the 79.1% kept and retired their old ring to be passed down to the next generation while the other half waved it goodbye.)
It appeared there was not an actual connection between trading in or upgrading the original ring. It was the initial belief that they could see themselves easily trading in the ring from the beginning that turned out to be the fly in the ointment. In other words, it signaled a lack of commitment.
The final head scratcher I pondered is, of the 22% of the original romantics that ended up in divorce, 97.4% never wavered on their original answer. Is it possible that a bride or groom that was unwilling to change their attitudes ended up stagnating in their relationship because they tried to hold on so desperately to that original love without allowing it to grow and mature? I don’t have all the answers. But what I can tell you is this. In the end those that anticipated a change and those that refused to change ended up in the same place. Back where they started.
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream and not make dreams your master,
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And which is more you’ll be a Man, my son!
Volume 1, Issue 2
December 30, 2002
It’s 11:30, lights out, you’ve just finished watching Leno and you’ve given your wife a good night kiss. A few minutes pass… you’re drifting off…when you suddenly hear your Boo Bear say, “Honey, if I ever died would you ever remarry?” What do you do?
A. Pretend to be asleep.
B. Tell her that “A love match like ours can never be replaced”.
C. Tell her that after an appropriate mourning period you would naturally begin to socialize.
You’re invited to your ten-year class reunion. Your woman squeezes into her old cheerleading outfit and remarks, “My goodness! It still fits! How do I look? Do I look fat?” Would you say:
A. Maybe we need to call Jenny Craig.
B. It’s like we’ve gone back in time. You’ve never looked so beautiful.
C. The word “Oink” comes to mind.
A. It’s a little dry.
B. It’s delicious! Are you related to Julia Child?
C. Even the contestants on “Survivor” would pass on this bird.
Your wife’s best friend just completed her thesis towards her Ph.D. Your spouse ponders whether her own accomplishments in life are as worthy and asks, “Honey, in the big scheme of things do I make a difference?” Do you say:
A. In this big crazy world we live in who’s to say what matters and
B. Didn’t you drop out after the 6th grade?
C. You make a difference to me and anyone else who is lucky enough to come in contact with you.
After your wife’s best friend receives her new Ph.D., her husband pops for a new rack and face-lift for her. Your wife is appalled and says, “I can’t believe it, first she tries to prove she’s smarter than everyone else and now she’s trying to look 20 years younger. Why won’t she just grow old gracefully? Honey, do I need a face-lift?” What do you say?
A. Does the Mona Lisa need a new coat of paint? Of course not!
B. No, I like the wrinkles. They show experience and wisdom.
C. What I think we’re dealing with here is a tear down.
- “You win.”
- “We’re not getting any younger…”
- “In spite of what my mother says…”
- “I have sowed my wild oats.”
Two can be as bad as one
It’s the loneliest number since the number one
would you wonder
where I had gone
would you ponder about me
or your dinner plate
will you call out my name
so their screams won’t interfere
with your playoff game
or a convenience in life
or do I still count as your wife
when you dropped to one knee
you said you’d liberate me
you said you’d set me free
is replace one cell for another
you don’t want a companion
you want a replacement for your mother
be the man you used to be
the man who put me first
the man who used to see
would you wonder where I had gone
you used to have me in your arms
but it’s time to say so long
Taken for granted
B. Through friends
C. Clubs at ladies night
A. My Place
B. Her Place
A. $20 – $50
B. $51 – $100
C. It doesn’t matter
A. The truth is open to interpretation
B. A lie is a lie
A. Ladies man
B. Man’s man
C. None of the above
Your ride, your crib, your woman, your women
A. A lover
B. A fighter
A. Offer to pick up the tab
B. Offer to pick the tab but realize you don’t have your wallet
C. Don’t offer to pick up the tab
A. Last minute
B. 1 to 3 days
C. 3 to 7 days
2.) The Amazon
3.) The Drama Mama
4.) The Vestal Virgin
5.) The Black Widow
6.) The Ugly Duckling
7.) The Girl Next Door
Wife: Honey, did you take the garbage out?
Husband: I’ll get to it.
Wife: Oh sure, that’s what you always say then we get garbage piled
for days. Next thing you know we’ll miss garbage pick up day
because you failed to take the garbage out to the curb. We’ll
have garbage piled up for all the world to see, then the dogs
will get into it and scatter it over the yard, THEN THE
NEIGHBORS WILL CALL THE POLICE FOR LITTERING!!
IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!! IS THAT WHAT’S
GOING TO MAKE YOU HAPPY?!! HUH? YOU WANT TO
GO TO JAIL? DO YOU WANT TO BE SOMEBODY’S
PUNK IN PRISON? DO YOU WANT TO BE KNOWN AS
Husband: Honey stop, look, I’m getting up, I’m taking the garbage