And now for a replay of this week’s winning conversation:

Me (eyeing our monthly budget numbers):  “Wow, I didn’t realize you were so heavily into BDSM.”

Hubby:  “What?  I don’t even know what that means.”

Me: “Bondage/domination/sadism/masochism.”

Hubby (with sagging jaw): “Wha…?  Where did that come from?”

Me:  “Your monthly budget.  You said you spend about $100 a month on restraints.”

Hubby:  “Damn autocorrect!  That should have said restaurants!”

Speaking of restaurants, the other day we were sitting in a Subway and Hubby was (as usual) picking the anemic yellowish tomato slices out of his BLT.  He jabbed his finger at a prominently-displayed picture of a luscious red tomato.

“See that?” he demanded.  “That’s how tomatoes are supposed to look!  Not this… piece of… I don’t even know what this is supposed to be!”  He dropped another pale crunchy slice onto his napkin.

That’s when I realized that fast-food restaurants are absolutely unique in the business-to-consumer market.  Have you ever been served a fast-food meal that actually looks like the appetizing pictures on their menu?  I haven’t.  But it’s never occurred to me to complain about it; and I’ve never heard anybody else complain, either.

There’s no way I’d tolerate that kind of bait-and-switch in any other business.

Imagine me paging through car brochures and settling on a new Chevy Cruze. I pay my money, they hand over the keys, and I go out to the lot to find a 1982 Chevette dribbling oil and rust flakes onto the pavement, reeking of stale cigarettes and wet dog.  And somehow, I passively accept that the piece of shit they delivered is not even close to the pretty picture I bought.  I climb into that pathetic excuse for a car without a peep of protest, wave to the dealer, and chug away.

I think not.

Then again, in the car dealership I’ve got all the time in the world to argue over expectations and aesthetics.  If I delay the line in a fast-food restaurant, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll get lynched by an infuriated mob of hungry patrons.

So maybe accepting a limp, sad, greasy burger is more about self-preservation than submission and masochism.  That’s what I’d like to think, anyway.

I’ll let you decide…

Book News:  After a long simmer on the back burner, there’s finally hope for Books 2 through 14 to be released as audiobooks!  Stay tuned…