“Coming right up. Why the sad face, sport?”

“My wife left me.”


“Yeah. I came home from work today and found a note saying that she was leaving me for a ticket scalper from Des Moines.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry.”

“And now my whole life is ruined. I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Take it easy. After all, you’re not the first guy this has happened to.”

“Yeah, I know. But when I think of all the shows we were going to see this summer, it.. it… I’m sorry. I… I… just need to work through this. This was supposed to be ‘our’ summer.

“Lot’s of plans, eh?”

“Oh, yeah. Eric Clapton, U2, Lynyrd Skynyrd, we had tickets for all the shows.”

“Get a grip, bud. A man must be strong.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You weren’t planning on seeing Jill Scott in July or Bob Dylan in August.”

“Hey, don’t rub it in.”

“Then there were those front row tickets for at the and Depeche Mode at the .”

“I know perfectly sane people who would kill for those seats.”

“Second row for Madonna in Oakland, third row for Journey in Bakersfield. Yeah, we had quite the summer planned. And to think I worked a double shift all through April and May to buy those tickets.”

“You and her really liked music, eh?”

“You said it. We had tickets for almost every concert coming to the state. I can still remember the look on her face when I surprised her with David Lee Roth tickets. We had such great plans for this summer. I… I just don’t know what to do now.”

“Cheer up, pal, you’ll meet someone new.”

“Yeah, I know, but…”

“Somewhere out there, there’s another woman that loves concerts as much as you do. After all, time heals all wounds.”

“Oh, I know I’ll eventually meet someone new, but… but…”

“But what?”

“When… when my wife moved out…”


“She took all the tickets.”