While peeling through a book last night at Barnes & Noble, I was sitting beside a man in his mid-forties who had been waiting on wife to pick out a book for a good hour.
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The Husband: “Hey,” he said as he popped up from his book on Native American history, “did you know that Indians can’t grow facial hair?”
Me: “I think I’ve heard that before… I wish I couldn’t grow facial hair. That would save me a lot of time each the morning.”
The Husband: “Yep… it’s like how my wife always wants me to shave in the morning, then shave in the evening just before bed. But then she gets all mad when I ask her to shave her legs. You married yet?”
Me: “Not yet.”
The Husband: “Well… let me give you one bit of advice a man handed down to me.”
Me: “What’s that?”
The Husband: “The one word you always need to remember is ‘love.’ Because there are days I love my wife to death… and there are days I’d love to kill her.”
Me: “Kinda like right now?”
The Husband: “Woman takes a d*** hour to pick out a cup of coffee.” [Calls his wife on his cellphone] “Hey… you planning on closing this store tonight, or opening-up for them in the morning?! I’m kidding sweetheart. I’ve got a book on Indians. Take your time.”





