My coworker came by my desk and said, “Dude. I need your help with something.” I said, “Sure. What’s up?” He said, “Well, my wife and I are celebrating our eight year anniversary tonight... and I wrote her a poem.” I said, “That’s awesome.” He said, “Totally. I’m really proud of it... but I’m also a little self conscious... since it’s my first stab at poetry. If I read it to you, will you give me some feedback?” I said, “Um... yeah, sure. Let’s hear it.” He pulled a piece of notebook paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He cleared his throat and read: “Dear wifey... the love of my lifey.” He stopped and looked up at me. I said, “Is that it?” He said, “No, there’s more. I was just pausing for applause.” I rolled my eyes and said, “Keep reading.” He cleared his throat again and continued: “I know sometimes I get on your nerves... mostly when I bring up your new found curves...” I said, “Whoa. Stop right there. What do you mean by ‘Your new found curves?’ Is she pregnant?” He said, “No. She has just put on some weight lately.” I sat there, blinking for a few seconds and said, “Ok. Continue.” He kept reading: “All of my friends think our marriage is doomed... but they only tell me after many beers are consumed.” He looked up at me again. I said nothing. I just stared blankly and gestured for him to keep going. He shrugged and went on: “Even though we barely have sex... I respect you enough not to facebook my ex.” I laughed nervously and said, “Uh... how long is this poem?” He said, “It goes on for about another page and a half.” I stared at him in disbelief and said, “Ok, just... just skip to the end. What’s the last line?” He flipped the paper over and scanned the bottom of the page. He said, “Ok here it is: ‘This entire dinner, you haven’t said a word to me... but I still want to wish you a Happy Anniversary.’” He lowered the paper and scanned my face for a reaction. Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Jesus,” I muttered. He looked nervous. “What? No good?” I shook my head and said, “I uh... I don’t really know what to say... I uh... I think it’s uh... I... I LOVE IT!” He smiled and said, “Really?” I said, “Well yeah. It’s well-phrased. It has a nice rhythm to it. I mean, some of the rhymes are a little forced... but for your first poem, it’s pretty damn good.” He was elated. Smiling and nodding, he said, “I think I’m going to deliver the poem as a toast... you know, like in front of the entire restaurant?” I pointed at him and said, “You, sir, are a genius.” He was still beaming when he walked away.

What? It was actually a pretty well-written poem. But yes, his life and marriage are over.