“Conclusions, Sheila? What conclusions? I come home from work early and find Harry slipping out the backdoor, and you don’t want me ‘jumping to conclusions?'”

“He’s… He’s… just a friend, Fred. That’s all he is. A friend.”

“You expect me to believe that? He’s the local promoter, for God’s sake.”

“Now, Fred.”

“Don’t ‘Now, Fred,’ me, Sheila. Do you know how inadequate an average guy like me feels when compared with a promoter? I mean, everybody knows how virile and strong promoters are.”

“Don’t be silly, Fred. Besides, that’s just a myth.”

“A myth, is it? Every serious relationship I’ve ever had was busted up by a promoter. It never failed. I’d fall in love, take the object of my affections to see a show, say KISS or Eagles, and before I knew it, she was leaving with the promoter. And now you, Sheila. Oh, my life is ruined.”

“It was just that one time, Fred. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s what they all say. Like Cassandra in college. We went together for six months, but when ZZ Top played on campus, she left me for the promoter right in the middle of the ‘Tube Snake Boogie.'”

“I’m sorry.”

“Then there was Wanda. We were planning on marriage, kids, an SUV. But when I took her to see Bryan Ferry, she left me in the dust during the opening riff to ‘Love Is The Drug.’ Said she needed ‘the good stuff,’ and that I was strictly ‘over the counter’ medicine.”

“I… I don’t know what to say, Fred. I mean, he just stopped by to show me his contracts for Bob Dylan, Velvet Revolver and the Pixies. I saw those guarantees, and those contract riders, and… and… I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s how it starts, Sheila. It’s always, ‘I was just in the neighborhood and I thought you’d like to see my onsales for Jewel or my additional dates for Madonna,’ and before you know it, Bim! Boom! Bam! You’re doing the hanky-panky.

“That’s not the way it was, Fred.”

“I should have listened to my mother. She always said I’d never make anything out of myself unless I became a promoter. But did I listen? Oh, no. I could be doing shows like Eric Clapton or Kenny Loggins. But I had to go to med school. Become a brain surgeon. I was such a fool.”

“But, Fred, I still love you. It was just a one-time thing. It will never happen again.”

“Oh, yeah, right. I know that once a woman has a promoter, there’s no going back to a guy like me. I’m sorry, but I just can’t bear the pain. I’m… I’m leaving you, Sheila.”

“But it’s all over between me and him. Honest. Here, he gave me these as a going away present.”

“What? Two tickets to see Paul McCartney?”

“Uh, uh. What do you say? You and me? Paul? All those great songs?”

“I don’t know, Sheila. You expect me to forget about what happened just because he gave you a pair of Macca tickets?”

“Oh, come on, Fred, It will be fun.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“Couldn’t you get better seats?”