Most of the booths appeared full when I walked into the coffee shop. As I searched for an open seat I was surprised to see Ebenezer Griper. Eb is an irascible old acquaintance who lives several miles out of town. On this morning he was sitting alone, reading a newspaper.

“May I join you?” I asked as I slid into the opposite bench.

“Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age,” Eb muttered as he looked up over his smeared eyeglasses. “I guess my luck has ended.”

“It’s a joy to see you, too, Eb!” I replied.

“A day or two ago I got to wondering about what happened to that old pinko commie liberal former newspaper guy. And here you are.”

“Yes, Eb, and you are blessed.”

Eb scowled.

“How’s Hilda doing?” I asked of his wife of many years.

“Crabby,” he snapped.

“Maybe ‘crabby’ is contagious at your place,” I suggested.

Eb looked up from his newspaper with a scowl. “Darn woman just ain’t satisfied with nothing.”

“What’s the source of her disgruntlement?” I queried.

“Huh?”

“Why is she crabby?”

Eb took a sip of coffee, looked out the window at the pickup trucks in the parking lot and then explained, “She was bellyaching that we never do anything fun anymore. So I took her somewhere fun and she still ain’t happy.”

“Where did you go for fun?”

“Took her along to a machinery auction down in Missouri yesterday.”

“And Hilda didn’t have fun there?” I asked with feigned surprise.

“Naw, she complained all day long,” Eb moaned. “We hadn’t been there for four hours and she wanted to know when we could go home. Said she was bored. Shoot, I even bought her dinner at the lunch stand. What does a woman expect these days?”

I’m not always sure what women expect either, but I could understand Hilda’s side. “Well, Eb,” I explained, “most women aren’t interested in machinery auctions. Why don’t you try taking Hilda to a nice restaurant in the city for dinner and then to a movie? I’ll bet she would love that.”

Eb slipped his glasses off his nose and stared at me with contempt. “I can’t believe you are so stupid,” he said slowly. “Reason one: anytime we go to the city Hilda makes me shave. Reason two: anytime we go to the city Hilda makes me wear my new overalls. Reason three: fancy restaurants and movies are expensive. And reason four: you’re an idiot.”

“And you’re not willing to shave, change overalls or spend a few bucks to make Hilda happy?”

Tapping the table with his forefinger, Eb said, “I told the preacher I’d love, honor and cherish that woman. I didn’t promise nothing about shaving and spending money.”

I looked Eb in the eye. “For all the years I’ve known you, Eb, you have been complaining about Hilda. Why in the heck did you marry her anyway?”

“Her dad owned a farm.”

“So your money is really her money, isn’t it?” I asked.

“There you go again with your pinko way of thinking. It’s people like you who are screwing up the American way of life.”

I had a dentist appointment on my schedule. As I slid out of the booth, I said, “Eb, all Hilda wants from you is a little consideration… a little tenderness. Go home, give her a hug and a kiss and let her choose what you do for fun tonight. You might be surprised.”

“Surprised… or scared?”

“Gotta run,” I said, “Don’t have too much fun. I’d hate to see what a smile might do to your face.”

Eb shook his head slowly. “Marriage advice from an idiot…”

“And it didn’t cost you a dime,” I interrupted. That’s when I saw a hint of a smile on Eb’s face.