years to see the show and paid a ton of money for those tickets.”
“Did she tell you why she gave them away?” Ben asked.
“Yeah and the reason is crap, if you ask me. Her sister went through a bad breakup and my girlfriend said she needed some cheering up.”
“Well, I think it’s good to look at the positive side of things,” I said. “Your girlfriend cares about people and family. She loves her sister and wants to make her feel better.”
“I’m pretty sure a pint of ice cream would’ve done the job,” Ben said.
“There’s nothing wrong with her generosity and a kind heart.”
“Unless she didn’t ask Matthew first if it was okay to give away the tickets.”
“She didn’t,” Matthew answered. “I didn’t even know they were gone until I saw them missing from the kitchen counter.”
“And you paid for them, so technically she gave away your tickets.”
I wagged my index finger at Ben. “In a relationship, everything is fifty-fifty.”
“Including communication. They should’ve discussed it and then have come to a decision together. I have a bad feeling about your girlfriend, Matthew. She’s a controlling person. I think you need to say adios to her.”
I held up my hand. “Wait just one minute! Let’s not be so rash. Maybe there’s more to this story.”
“Or maybe there isn’t. I’m willing to bet this isn’t the first time she’s done something like this. Am I right, Matthew?”
“Sure are,” Matthew answered. “She does it all the time.”
Ben gave me a smug smile. “Give us another example.”
“She tossed my favorite Seinfeld T-shirt in the trash because it had one tiny hole in the sleeve. And she threw away my favorite tennis shoes. She said they smelled.”
“Sounds like you’re going out with your mom. Does she tell you to wash your hands before supper?” Ben chuckled. “By the way, what did you do when she threw away those things of yours?”
“Nothing. What could I do? They were gone.”
Ben nodded. “And here lies the real problem. You’re letting her walk all over you. You either need to fix this so you can be part of all the decision-making in your house, or you need to walk away from the relationship. Either way, you need to grow a pair. Thanks for the call.”
What a monster.
I held up my hand. “Wait a minute! Matthew, you stay right there.”
“Uh . . . okay,” Matthew said.
Ben looked up. “What’s the problem now?”
I glanced across at Ben. “Matthew is looking for someone with knowledge and compassion to help him with his problem.”
“And I did help him.” Ben grabbed his coffee mug and took a sip, a satisfied grin on his face.
“No. You didn’t.” I shook my head in disgust. “You raked him over the coals and then told him to grow a pair.”
“That was valid advice because he’s letting that woman make all the decisions. Matthew needs to reach down into his trousers and check to see if his gonads are still there. Because, along with his T-shirt and tennis shoes, it sounds like his girlfriend took those, too.”
I threw my palms in the air. “Gonads? Who uses that word anymore? Your vocabulary needs to be rebooted.”
“Gonads is a valid word.”
“For cavemen, maybe.”
“What do you prefer? Balls? Ooooh, then you can play ‘Great Balls of Fire’ by Jerry Lee Lewis and do one of your cutesy dedications to him.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Okay, scratch balls. Pun intended. Anyway, in honor of our wonderful Spanish-speaking friends, we can use huevos or cojones. Better?”
“Testicles is the technical term, if it’s necessary to use it, which I don’t think it is.”
Ben sighed. “Fine. He can reach down into his long johns and check to see if his testicles are still there.” He winced. “Nope. It doesn’t have the same punch.”
I set my mocha down. “Have you ever just listened to yourself for a moment?
“Of course. We can login into the server from anywhere to hear recordings of past shows.”
“It was a rhetorical question.”
“Hello?” Matthew said. “I’m still here.”
“Just a minute, Matthew,” I said. “Listen, Dr. Tough Stuff—”
Ben adjusted his headphones. “Dr. Tough Love.”
I blew off his correction. “Whatever. You can make all the fun you want about my dedications, but they’re helpful and necessary. People love them. I’m looking forward to playing dedications for our listeners.”
Ben pointed his finger at me. “If you play anything from Bette Midler, I swear I will take my own life live on the air.”
I smirked. “Promises, promises.”
“I’m serious.”
“Well, then it sounds like my dastardly plan to get rid of you is