Good morning. How are things on the home front? On mine, the common-law Mrs. Codger got into one of her moods last night. I wanted to sit on the porch and then watch TV (like I do most nights), and she wanted to go to that Senior Center again. She knows I don’t like going there, but she’s always trying to get me to go, even though I took her to the movies just last week. She assured me that it’s not a club of “loose morals”, as I’ve always told her it is, and she sweetened the pot by telling me they were holding a square dance last night, so I finally agreed to go.
At the Senior Center, I was surprised they had a real caller and not just a record player. The place I used to take the first Mrs. Codger used to use a record player most of the time. Anyhow, it’s not like the caller was any good. The reason I know this is because he didn’t have a southern accent. What kind of square dance caller doesn’t have a southern accent? Of course, none of that would have mattered if he wouldn’t have kept calling for the couples to switch partners! And the missus did it! She walked right across that square and stood by the man over on the other side. And his wife walked over and stood by me.
I wasn’t born yesterday, and I know how those swinger operations work. They make it look like you’re doing an innocent activity, but it’s all code for swinging. I wasn’t going to stand there and let the chowderheads in that room think that I endorsed their hank-a-pank. I made it very clear that I wasn’t “one of them” when I took the missus by the arm and promenaded her right out the front door and into the car. I told her that we had just left a thinly-disguised swinging operation, but she wouldn’t believe me. She can be incredibly naïve at times. What would she do without me there to look out for her? When I got home, I realized that it wasn’t too late to save the evening, so to speak, so I sat out on the porch and then watched Nancy Grace and Joy Behar’s programs while she did some laundry.
Until next time!