The Joke

As a joke, a man’s wife serves him with divorce papers. She has them sent, already signed by her, to his place of work. Understanding dawns on him as he reads through the papers. He still doesn’t get the joke so he assumes his wife wants a divorce.

“Oh boy,” he says, placing his forehead against the smooth wood of his desk. The man’s name is John, but everyone calls him Foot because of his condition. He remains with his head down, gently tapping his forehead against the wood. This is completely out of the blue. Just last week, he and his wife took a vacation to the remote island of Gonop. How could she? Why would she? He just doesn’t understand...

Later that day a coworker comes by his office and sees him still in the head down position. “What’s wrong, Foot?” the coworker says.

“It’s my wife,” Foot says, not raising his head.

“I’m sorry. Is something the matter with her?”

Foot raises his head. His eyes are red and watery. “She wants a divorce.”

“Welcome to the club,” the coworker says, raising a fist of solidarity and strolling back into the office.

Throughout the day, Foot’s anger builds. She has no right to do this, he thinks. Not without any explanation whatsoever. That kind of thing just isn’t done. By the time he gets home, he is ready to tell her all of this. He is ready to throw the papers across the room and tell her they are meaningless but, upon opening the door to his house, Foot is once again shocked.

Taking the joke one step further, his wife has decided to sleep with another man. She and her lover are actually in the act when Foot walks through the door. They are on the couch. The man wears a buckskin coat and nothing else as his hips dive vigorously between Foot’s wife’s legs.

“Oh,” his wife says between moans. “You’re home.”

The man continues to pound away.

Foot, still holding the divorce papers in his hands, brandishes them at his wife. “Jesus Christ!” he shouts, strolling across the room to grab the buckskinned man by the shoulder. “Get the hell off my wife!” He jerks the man away. His wife makes no attempt to cover herself. The man only looks emptily at him, absently toying with his huge penis.

His wife looks surprised. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset, Footy.”

“You serve me with divorce papers and then I come home to find you fucking another man. You don’t understand why I’m upset?”

“It was... just a joke,” she says, giggling.

“A joke!” he shouts.

“Yeah,” she says. “Just a joke. Pretty good one, huh?”

The buckskinned man laughs. His laugh is very deep. The laugh of a simpleton, Foot thinks.

Still, a sense of relief washes over him. Sitting down on the couch beside his wife he says, “You mean, you don’t really want a divorce?”

“Of course not,” she says. “I told you, it was just a joke.”

“A joke, huh?” Foot puts the divorce papers on the coffee table. The buckskinned man is edging toward the front door, still naked except for the coat. “What about him?” Foot says.

“Oh, he was part of the joke. That’s Norman. He works at the hardware store on the corner.”

“I thought he looked familiar,” Foot says.

“You just need to lighten up,” his wife says, swiping his arm with her hand. “You’re such a stick in the mud.”

“Yeah,” Foot says. “I guess I can be.”

Norman leaves through the front door and, looking at his wife sitting complacently on the couch, Foot finally gets