At her 80th birthday lunch, Dorothy told her friends she had a new boyfriend.
“He’s a real gentleman,” she said. “He brings me flowers, takes me dancing, and never interrupts.”
“Never?” asked Betty.
“Not once. Yesterday, I talked for forty minutes about my grandchildren. He just smiled.”
“Dorothy,” Betty whispered, “have you checked his hearing?”
“Of course. His hearing is excellent.”
“Then how did you find a man who actually listens?”
Dorothy leaned across the table.
“On our first date, he asked what I wanted in a relationship. I told him, ‘At my age, I want companionship, a little romance, and absolutely no arguments.’”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘That sounds expensive.’”
“And you still went out with him?”
“Certainly. I told him I had a lovely house, a healthy pension, and a very generous will.”
Her friends fell silent.
Betty finally asked, “Dorothy… you’re not putting a man you’ve just met in your will?”
Dorothy took a sip of champagne.
“Of course not. But now, whenever I start telling a story, he listens like his future depends on it.”
