At Least There's A Silver Lining
Herb and Maggie were enjoying a quiet dinner at a nice, upscale restaurant when a gorgeous young woman suddenly walked up to their table. She gave Herb a big kiss, whispered that she’d see him later, and strolled away.
Maggie’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Herb,” she snapped, “who on earth was that?”
Herb calmly set down his fork. “That, my dear, is my mistress.”
Maggie slammed her napkin on the table. “Well, that does it—I want a divorce!”
“I understand,” Herb said evenly, “but if we divorce, it means no more shopping trips to Paris, no more winters in Florida, no more summers at the lake house, no more luxury cars in the garage, and no more yacht club.”
Maggie paused, thinking it over.
Just then their friend Jim walked in with a stunning young lady on his arm.
Maggie leaned toward Herb and asked in a low voice, “Who’s that with Jim?”
Herb smiled. “That’s his mistress.”
Maggie gave a slow nod and said, “Hmm… ours is prettier.”
