When forced to watch my friends’ latest naughty films to critique them for plot, dialogue and character development, I admit a cowboy, pizza deliverer or the ever-busy plumber occasionally stirs my interest. I fantasize what might occur should Officer Bruno or Perfect Plunger’s Mr. Fix-It come a’knocking (By the way, do the lesbian films have female plumbers? Must ask about that).
Recently, I thought my dreams had come true. I was staying at my brother’s house in Maine and early one evening I answered the doorbell and there on the shadowy porch was a policeman in full drag, I mean uniform. He was more than 6-feet tall with a little 28 inch waist and a massive 40 inch chest (I just knew it was hairy!).
I instantly surrendered and put out my wrists to be tightly handcuffed. Sadly, it was all about a contribution to some children’s summer camp. My scenario wasn’t dead yet. I assured him I’d write a check at once and pulled him into the house still hoping for an adventure.
Oh, cruel fate. In the brighter light my Officer Bruno turned from a he into a she – so much for the hairy chest – and behind her appeared her partner: all 5 feet 8 inches and 160 pounds of him, and so young. She looked more likely to shave than he did.
They were excessively polite; hoping, I guess, I was not too ancient and befuddled to write the check. Furthermore, their constantly calling me “Sir” didn’t lend itself to any chummy familiarity. The final drop of sexual fantasizing evaporated when she thought it necessary to help me into the desk chair which her partner gallantly pulled out for me. I felt it was time for Shady Pines.
A week later the sink clogged up and one of the snaggle-toothed rednecks from Deliverance showed up.
Coupon, coupon.
Who’s got the coupon?
We, who are retired and on pensions, often determine our restaurants by their coupon or lack thereof.
Of course, they save us money, but better still, they are an incentive to get out and enjoy a meal with someone rather than sit at home alone. Notice I didn’t say treat them. I’ve mentioned this before: make it clear at the invitation that it is a Dutch treat (or not).
Usually it is for a meal, but sometime just a discount, so pay attention. Also check the expiration date, “Monday to Thursday only” and “Must buy two drinks” (some drinks cost more than the discount). If you have any doubts, show it to the staffer when you are seated.
Not long ago, I and five friends dined at a restaurant which accepted two coupons. The complexity of dividing up the bill became so heated I left the table, paid for myself and sat near the door watching the pen and/or calculator-wielding queens figuring out their portion. It was better than watching Honey Boo-Boo. After the final grim settlement and several seething, tight-lipped “Goodnight’s,” we parted. One of them has bitched for weeks that he was shorted by 87 cents!
In summary: For peace in the valley, use a coupon with only one other person.
