(An elderly couple comes up to the public desk at a newspaper office.)

Wife: “I’d like to put in an announcement about our 50th anniversary.”

Me: “How wonderful that you and your husband have been together for so long! It’s very sad that my generation doesn’t seem to put as much work into staying married as yours did.”

(She looks sourly at her husband, sitting over in the corner immersed in a magazine, then back at me.)

Wife: “Well, it’s because you young ladies today are educated and can do for yourselves. You don’t have to put up with the s*** I’ve had to for 50 years!”

(I shut right up, and tell her the announcement will be in the Sunday paper.)

(My boyfriend and I are talking about electronics. My name is not Mable and his is not Dennis.)

Me: *elderly voice* “What’s with all these new fangled contraptions here? This one says it’s called a ‘meehcrowahve’. What in tarnation is that?!”

Boyfriend: *elderly voice* “What did you say? By the way, Mable, make me some tea and cookies! And put the denture wash tablet in some water for me!”

Me: “Maple?! I ain’t no tree! And what do you need dinner wash for? It’s not even time to eat yet!”

Boyfriend: “I said Mable, not Maple you rotten old bat!”

Me: “Rotten cold hat?! Dennis, you need your eyes checked if you think I look like a hat, you smelly ol’ coot!”

Boyfriend: “Mrs Galahad! You need to calm your little self and don’t make me call in whats-his-name! Oh, wait… he dropped dead of the plague Tuesday.”

Me: “I’m Mable, not your Mrs. Galahad! Now what did he drop Fred for?!”

Boyfriend: “PLAGUE, WOMAN! PLAGUE! He dropped dead not Fred! Who’s Fred?!”

Me: “We’re enjoying this way too much, aren’t we.”

Boyfriend: “Yes… yes we are.”

(I am on the couch with my husband cuddling after an exhausting day at work.)

Me: “Honey, you know those old couples I see at work all the time? The ones where the old man makes bad jokes and keeps yanking the money out of my reach and the wife just sighs and mumbles that she can’t take her husband anywhere?”

Husband: “Yeah, what about them?”

Me: “Can we be that couple when we grow up?”

Husband: “Love, we are that couple!”

(I’m shopping in the men’s socks/underwear section, when I overhear the following conversation between an elderly couple—probably in their early 70′s—buying boxer shorts for the husband.)

Husband: “These are fine.”

Wife: “I don’t know if I like the pattern on these. Don’t they have anything else?”

Husband: “No, they’re all just different types of plaid. Who cares?”

Wife: “Well, I want them to look good on you.”

Husband: “For God’s sake! They’re d*** boxer shorts! You’re the only one who ever sees them on me, and as soon as you do you just want to take them off of me anyway!”

Wife: “Oh, my goodness! You save that talk for home!”

(She hurries away, past me. The husband follows behind her, but sees me chuckling silently to myself and he catches my eye knowing I heard the whole thing. He pauses briefly to give me a wink then holds up his fist for a fist bump. I return the fist bump.)

(My fiancé and I are currently in a long-distance relationship while I finish my last year of undergrad. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I won’t see him this year on it, because he is coming down the next month to celebrate our 5 year anniversary. I check my phone and see that I’ve received a text from my fiancé.)

Fiancé: “So, I hope you know I will never forget. But even so, I added a reminder to my Google account saying ‘Don’t you dare forget about your wife’s birthday you piece of S***!’. It’s set to go off for the next 50 years. So, it will start an alarm on your birthday on every Google phone I have until you turn 71.”