Tim: I'd love to, but not tonight. I believe my wife is dragging me to the Michigan Opera Theater fundraiser.
Hick: Don't do it.
Tim: What?
Hick: Just put your foot down and say, "Woman, I'm not going."
Eddie: Now, you see, that's the attitude that kept you a bachelor all your life. Of course, your face didn't help much either.
Hick: Oh, yeah? The ladies down at the senior center don't seem to mind. You should see me at those Saturday night dances, boy.

Eddie: So what if it's the opera? Look on the good side of it. You're gonna get to see your wife all dolled up in a beautiful gown.
Tim: She wants to wear a tux.
Hick: Oh, I hate to see a woman wearing pants. You know, down at the senior center I won't even dance with a woman unless she's wearing nylons with a nice seam right up the back of her legs.
Eddie: Those aren't seams. Those are veins.
Hick: My point is, Tim, that in the old days women wore dresses. And they hung onto your arm on a Saturday night, And they liked it when you called them "dame".
Tim: I don't think Jill would like it if... [deep voice] I called her "dame".
Hick: Well, dame, doll, gal, babe - whatever she likes.

Hick: You mean, your wife's making you go someplace you don't want to go, she's starting to wear men's clothes, and you're telling us you don't have a problem?
Tim: The problem is, until yesterday, I don't think she ever told me, "We're going to a fundraiser."
Hick: That's a woman for you.
Tim: And the crazy thing is, she tells me she said it three times, and I know she didn't.
Hick: Women like to control men, and they do it by confusing them. See, by changing the rules around, like wantin' to wear men's clothes. Tim, you've got to fight confusion with confusion.
Tim: [inquisitive grunt]
Hick: You go home and you put on one of her dresses.

Eddie: Oh, don't listen to that old windbag. Listen, I was married for 45 years, and the one thing I learned was that men and women are different.
Hick: It took him 45 years to figure that out.
Eddie: Oh. All I'm saying is that women are subtle. Your wife probably told you about this evening in her own way.
Tim: No, absolutely not, if she'd told me, I would have remembered that.
Eddie: Think, think. She never said anything about a fundraiser?
Tim: No, no. She said, "I'm gonna dry-clean your tuxedo," and something about Saturday hors d'oeuvres. That was it.
Eddie: But I mean written something down on paper or a calendar?
Tim: Well, our calendar is circled on Saturday, but all she wrote was "fur raisins".
Eddie: Fur raisins? Fur... Could that be... "fundraiser"?
Tim: Oh, no.

Tim: I realized today that you probably did tell me about this fundraiser. Not outright, but in your subtle way, you said it two or three times. When I'm not interested in something, I don't pay attention. It's my fault. I'm sorry, and I apologize.
Jill: Oh, thank you, sweetie.
Tim: We'll have a good time. Now, what were you gonna tell me?
Jill: Nothing.

Eddie: Hey, look who's here. I thought you had an event to go to.
Tim: Well, my wife and I communicated and compromised and decided to spend half the night at the fundraiser and the other half with you.
Eddie: All right!
Hick: And we're starving.
Mike: Fix you up a couple of stinkies?
Tim: Oof, no. Still lovin' that one I had today. How about just your shrimp plate and a big salad?
Mike: You got it.

Hick: My, my, my, my, my. I love a woman in a tuxedo.
Tim: I thought you said you didn't like women in pants.
Hick: Did I say that, junior?
Tim: Yes.
Hick: Well, it's OK if it's a glamor package like Jill here.
Jill: Well, thank you.
Hick: You are one classy dame.
Jill: And you are trouble.
Hick: And you know it. How about tripping the light fandango with me, if your husband doesn't mind?
Jill: You don't mind, do you, junior?
Tim: Junior? No, go ahead. Watch his hands.

Tim: I finished the birdhouse. Look.
Jill: Tim, they're just sitting on the tree. Why don't they go in?
Tim: Well, he's probably thinking, "The house is way too expensive... I'd have to win the lottery to go in there. I cant pick up a ticket with claws."
Jill: I don't think so, Tim.
Tim: He sees the Jacuzzi, and fresh papers everywhere.
Jill: Nah. He's saying, "Forget the papers. Let's find a statue of Tim."
Tim: Oh, look, a cat. Just kidding, fellas.