“Did you get the Beck tickets like I asked you?

“Well, dear -“

“Oh, don’t tell me you forgot. That’s the third time this month you forgot to pick up the concert tickets. Last week you missed getting good seats for Meat Loaf, and the week before that it was ZZ Top and R.E.M. You better have a good excuse, buster.”

“I was going to buy the tickets, honey, but something came up.”

“Yeah, right. Lemme guess. The British Prime Minister needed you to parachute into Iraq and capture Saddam Hussein. Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that, my dear.”

“Oh, that’s right. Excuse me. That was your excuse for not buying tickets for Bon Jovi. I’ll bet this time it’s because you were off helping President Bush foil a daring daylight robbery of Fort Knox.”

“No, dear, it wasn’t anything like that either. You see -“

“What? I know. You had to fly to California to stop some evil mastermind from starting an earthquake in San Francisco? I’m not buying that one again, mister. You used that excuse when you didn’t get those tickets for Peter Gabriel and Steely Dan.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You see -“

“You’re not going to lay that b.s. on me about terrorists stealing a couple of atomic bombs and holding NATO for ransom, are you? You used that one when you forgot to buy those Phish tickets.”

“Look, honey, I’m sorry, but -“

“Then there was that time we missed seeing Radiohead and Pearl Jam because you had to recover a missing submarine. I don’t know what you take me for.”

“But, honey -“

“When we got married you said the sky was the limit, and all I had to do was ask. Crosby, Stills & Nash? No problem, you said. King Crimson? Piece of cake, you said. The Allman Brothers Band? Consider it done, you said. But did I see any of those concerts? Heck, no! Why? Because you always forgot to buy the damn tickets!”

“Now, dear -“

“Don’t you `now, dear’ me, mister. I’m sick of your excuses.”

“But there’s a good reason I forgot the tickets, dear.”

“Oh, really? This better be good.”

“I… “

“Yes?”

“I forgot my wallet.”

“What? You forgot your wallet? You idiot!”

“I’m sorry, dear.”

“Ooooh, you make me so mad. Sometimes I wonder why I ever married you, James Bond.”