Chivalry

And who says chivalry is dead? I got a fine example of it . . . in my own home.

Today, the conversation around the water cooler turned to former Governor Spitzer and other famous infidelities. One of the women in the office quipped that if her husband left her for, say, Angelina Jolie . . . she would understand it. The woman is knock-out beautiful and wealthy. She said she'd, once getting over the burn, would have to admit that Angelina probably has qualities and attributes she didn't have and a little part of her would have to say "good show" to her husband. Others around the water cooler agreed that being left for someone beautiful and smart and rich would somehow hurt less than being dumped for trailer trash.

So, when I got home this evening . . . between practicing German phrases (the Phenom is in rehearsals for a new part), I asked the Phenom if it would be okay if I, um, serviced a ninty year old billionaire in order to inherit the billions. The immediate answer was NO. (Which frankly, is the right answer.) Then I asked if the Phenom would service a billionaire for the inheritance . . . and the answer was "for you, I'd service a ninty year old billionaire." Only, we didn't say "service." wink, wink.

If that ain't love and chivalry, I don't know what is.