You Have Her Cornered

, , , , , , | Romantic | January 9, 2019

(When my wife and I are still dating, we usually stop by her parents’ place when we finish working on Fridays. On this particular Friday, we are going to have a barbecue. However, before we get there, my future father-in-law, who is doing the cooking, desperately needs the bathroom. Given that his wife is busy working on dessert and his other daughter is fast asleep, he trusts his son to man the grill while he runs in to do his business. This is his son who, despite pushing 30, has never cooked anything without a microwave. By the time we walk in the door, the whole meal is charcoal.)

Wife: “How about we just get some sandwiches from [Irish Name]’s?”

(We all agree and write down our orders.)

Wife: “I’ll help them clean up. Why don’t you go get the sandwiches? Follow [Her Street] to [Major Street]. [Irish Name]’s is right on the corner there.”

(Off I walk. When I get to the intersection, I am directly in front of a barbershop. Across [Her Street] from the barbershop is a Western Union. Across [Major Street] from the barbershop is a gas station and body shop. Across [Major Street] from the Western Union is a condominium. There’s not one place called [Irish Name]’s. Without a clue, a pop into the barbershop to ask if any of them know of [Irish Name]’s. The two barbers have never heard of any such place. I know I didn’t mishear which street I’m supposed to stop at. Even if I did, following her street the other way to the next major street would take me to a church, a cemetery, and two private houses. So, I walk up this street until I get to the next intersection. There’s a mini-mart — no sandwiches — an apartment building, a florist, and a dentist. I walk back the other way. A bakery — no sandwiches — a Chinese restaurant, a cab depot, and a realtor. Out of ideas and having wasted a fair bit of time, I walk back to her parents’ house.)

Wife: “Where have you been? And where are the sandwiches?”

Me: “Where am I going?”

Wife: “[Irish Name]’s!”

Me: “Where is it?”


Me: “There is no [Irish Name]’s on any corner.”

Wife: “Of course there is! I got my lunch there just last week!”

Me: “Well, the barbers down the corner said they’ve never heard of it. How about you show me where?”

(The two of us walk back down to [Major Street]. She leads me across towards the gas station… and then continues walking past it.)

Me: *pointing behind us* “You said it was on this corner.”

Wife: “It is!”

(She walks into the building directly behind the gas station.)

Me: “This isn’t the corner. The gas station is on the corner.”

Wife: “Gas stations don’t count. This is the corner.”

(Unwilling to continue this discussion, I just roll my eyes. As I do, I glance at the name of the place we’ve walked into.)

Me: “This also isn’t [Irish Name]’s. This is [Italian Name with a completely different starting letter and more syllables]’s.”

Wife: “This place is always being sold and renamed. We don’t bother following. It was [Irish Name]’s when we first moved here, so we just call it [Irish Name]’s.”

Me: “And you expected me to know that?”

Wife: “It’s on the corner!”

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