“Was the long weekend tough on ya? How was the lake?” The bartender reached for a rocks glass, filled it with ice and poured a steady stream of amber-colored attitude adjustment.
“The lake was fine.” He reached for the glass and took a long sip. “I married my mom.”
“You what!? This weekend? You did what?” The bartender paused, bar rag in hand, waiting for an explanation.
“No. Not like that.” He took another sip. “No, I meant that the woman I married is exactly like my mom.”
“Oh. Ahhh… Yeah. Um…” The bartender wiped the spot on the bar in front of the rocks glass. He looked up at the man and started to say something, but opted to wipe the spot on the bar again.
The man pushed his glass toward the bartender. “This time with a little splash of coke. What were you going to say? Come on. I can take it.”
Just then a woman approaches the bar. The bartender puts the coke back in the fountain, hands the glass to the man and greets the woman. “Hello. What’ll you have this afternoon?”
“A Fat Tire. In a bottle. No glass. Please.”
The bartender turned to the beer cooler and said, “Looks like a lot of folks had a rough weekend.” He placed the bottle in front of her. She raised the bottle, made eye contact with the bartender and the man sitting two stools over and said, “Here’s to marrying our parents.”
The bartender laughed and said, “Are you kidding me? This guy was just telling me he married his mom. Are you telling me you married your mom, too?”
She laughed, “No, I married my dad. My husband is capable, hardworking, an amazing father and the most controlling individual I know. Just like my dad.”
The man laughed and said, “My wife is funny, she’s a wonderful mom, she cooks like she could run a restaurant, but if she doesn’t get her way, all hell breaks loose. Just like my mom.”
The woman said, “I don’t get it. How come we didn’t see this before we married them?”
The man said, “How come her pouting didn’t drive me to drink before I married her? Now I spend every moment I’m not at work trying to please her and keep from getting my ass in a jam. I’d live on the golf course if I could, but that only makes things worse.”
The woman said, “I need permission to buy a new blouse. I have to clear menus with him. I can’t go to lunch with a girlfriend unless it’s his idea. How do you survive?”
The man said, “I learned – from my dad – to act like a duck and let what she says run off my back. And I ask for permission to make a tee time. How are you surviving?”
“I’m not sure I am. Basically, I let him control me so that he doesn’t try to control the kids, any more than he already does.”
The bartender looked at both of them, poised to jump in, waiting for an opening.
The man looked at the bartender, “Hey, you were about to say something before you got her beer. What was it?”
The bartender grabbed a glass and started to pour, “You married your parents to work through your issues from childhood.”
The man and the woman both started talking at once:
“That’s NOT fair.”
“Why would I consciously CHOOSE to do that?”
“I loved my dad, but he wouldn’t let me DO anything!”
“My mom always got her own way. That drove me crazy!”
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
The bartender laughed, “The next round is on me.”