Happy Wife, Happy Life

Dear Diary:

I called up a restaurant that we had been wanting to go to for a while when we visit New York (my wife and I are both native New Yorkers). A young woman answered the phone.

“Hi, I’d like to make reservations for Valentine’s Day,” I said.

“Sure, sir, I think I can do that,” she replied. “Let’s see, Friday the 14th . . . ”

“Do you have anything available at 7?”

“Yes, we do. Seven o’clock, table for two?”

“Yes, that’s great,” I said as I gave her my name.

“You know,” the woman said, “of all the reservations I’ve taken for Valentine’s Day so far, you are the first guy to have called. All the other reservations have been made by women.”

“Really?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

“I’m even looking at the other names that are here on the list, and they’re all women’s names. So you’re the only guy. You get big points for that in my book.”

“Thanks. Do you mind if I tell you something?” I asked.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“I picked your restaurant and the time because that’s what my wife told me to do.”

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