At the cafe; morningtime:
Elderly Husband, approaching Elderly Wife: Does the table wiggle?
EW: Not too badly.
EH: I just got a smile from a beautiful girl.
EW: Oh? How'd you manage that?
EH: She was about this high. [gestures to approximate three-year old height]
EW: Oh-h [chuckles]
EH: But she just gave me this big ol' smile.
EW: That's nice, dear.
EH: You know that lady at the cash register?
EW: Talk softly!
EH [softer]: I don't think she's ever given me the right change.
EW: Oh well, dear. It probably evens out in the end.
EH: I suppose you're right.
[They continue eating, reading newspapers and switching sections, sipping coffee. Also being old and settled and utterly free of social responsibility.]
Narrator [opening up a private conversation recounting the story]: ...and all I can think about while this old lady scolds her husband for gossiping about the counter staff too loudly is that I am not wearing underwear, a thought only interrupted by the circumstances under which I lost the garment.
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