I heard this story from a bookstore clerk. He told me he had been working in the bookstore for a couple weeks when, on a Saturday morning, this couple came in. The wife started browsing the shelves, while the husband, a French gentleman, stood by the counter chatting with the clerk. When the wife came back to speak to the husband, the clerk noticed how rude she was, speaking loudly, almost screaming at him.
Later, he talked about the couple to the bookstore owner, saying how impressed he was with the husband, who had a very interesting and intelligent conversation, and the wife’s manner, mainly the way she yelled at him. The owner said, “Oh, that’s my friend, Mr. [Friend]. His wife is annoying as h***, so to avoid as much conversation with her as he can, he pretends to be deaf.”
(Our AC has been broken for two years. My husband has been promising to get it repaired by an AC technician at his work, but keeps forgetting to arrange it. With the weather being hotter than usual, I resort to making an air cooler from Internet instructions. He comes home from work to find me sitting in front of the cooler with the cool air blowing on my face.)
Husband: “What are you doing? That’s never going to cool the place!” *laughs*
(I look up and glare at him before putting my face back to the tiny stream of cool air.)
Husband: *stops laughing* “Oh.” *grabs his phone and makes a call* “Hi, [Technician], I’m calling about fixing our AC. Is there any chance of getting it done soon? You should see what my wife has resorted to doing.”
(He describes what I did and how funny I look. I glare at him again.)
Husband: “Could we get it done really soon, please? I’m getting a bit scared by the way she is looking at me.”
(They had it fixed the next day.)
(My husband recently ordered a TV stand and a bookshelf online, among other smaller items. The TV stand is delivered pretty quickly, and my husband assembles it the next day. He then gets a notification that some of his items were delivered, so he opens the front door to retrieve them.)
Husband: “That’s weird.”
Me: “What is?”
Husband: “They delivered another one.”
Me: “Another what?”
Husband: “TV stand. Did I accidentally order it twice?”
Me: “Huh?”
(He goes to pick up the box.)
Husband: “Why is it so ligh—”
(His voice trails off as a look of realization hits him; at the same time, I understand what happened.)
Me: “You put the empty box outside, didn’t you?”
Husband: *sheepishly* “Yes…”
(My husband and I are watching TV. I don’t have my glasses on and mention that to him, telling him that they are probably in my nightstand. I’m not lazy; I’m disabled.)
Husband: “I’ll go check during the next commercial.”
(He checks the nightstand and comes back empty-handed.)
Husband: “Yes. They’re in your nightstand.”
Me: “…”
(My fault; I didn’t say I WANTED them.)
(My husband has been working all evening taking out a fence. When it gets dark, he has me come shine a flashlight so he can work on the last post. It turns out that the last post was cemented in with at least twice as much cement as any of the others. It refuses to be pulled out, and my husband and I go in and go to bed. The next morning I wake up to the following text:)
Text: “I have slain the mighty fence post. It lieth dead in milady’s yard.”
