By Lester L Weil
His wife’s wooden clog slammed into his kneecap under the table. His bad knee. Being a manly construction worker, he didn’t cry out, only closed his eyes and tried to control the pain. It didn’t work. Excusing himself, he tried to make it to the restroom before the knee buckled. He almost made it.
It had started that morning. His wife insisting they be dinner guests of her old college roommate at a gourmet restaurant. That meant, to get everything done at the job-site, no lunch. When he got home there was barely time to change and then rush off to be at the restaurant on time.
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