Restaurant Interlude: The Long Suffering Wife

Tonight found me sitting in a very nice restaurant in a town which is the crown jewel of what has been aptly described as the "Redneck Riviera". I am alone, of course. As I considered the merits of a new brand of California Old Vines Red Zinfindale, a party of three couples was shown to the table next to me. All of these people were my age.

Of the three couples, the one closest to me was a fellow wearing jeans and some kind of long sleeve tee shirt. Bearing a designer logo, no doubt. His wife an attractive, age-appropriate [as my Irish Redhead would say] woman wearing a little black dress and a vaporous scarf double-twisted about her slender neck, a'la Parisienne. Great hair. Tasteful jewelry. Nice looking lady.

No sooner had this couple decanted themselves at the table, when the Mr. loudly chortles:

"Darlin' tell everyone about your eye surgery!"

To her credit, she did not even flinch. Just carried on her conversation with the person dining at her elbow. The muffled laughter from my direction notwithstanding.

I hope he makes plenty of money. She certainly deserves it.