I have coffee every morning at my gym with a group of retirees. Last week, one of them mentioned he was taking his wife out to dinner to celebrate 55 years of marriage.
“Aw, you’re just a kid,” said another. “My wife and I are celebrating 62 years this August.”
“I’m getting close to celebrating 50 years myself,” said another.
There was silence as the group, who’ve known each other for years, exchanged puzzled looks.
“Well, I mean, 50 years if you count them all up consecutively,” said the guy.
I cracked up. Turns out he’s been married four times. “Just so you know,” I said, “That 50 years doesn’t count.”
“Time served is time served,” he said.
I love morning coffees.